Bee, Like Sting
by SecretLife40
Summary: Edward meets Bella, one night turns into a summer. Bella's H.S. starts up & he encounters her quite surprisingly.  Will Edward give in to his desire and pay the price of her deception, or will he walk away and do what he should?  AH, OOC, some drugs, sex.
1. Chapter 1

Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer. Please note, this chapter contains drug use, curse words and sex, if this offends you, stop reading now.

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Chapter One

"Where are we headed tonight?" I ask.

"A party on Jefferson," Alice answers.

I nod my head once and go back to what I was doing.

"Do you want to hit this or no?" I'm packing a one-hitter.

"I thought we were gonna roll tonight?" she whines.

"Yeah, we are," I don't offer her any other explanation. Alice is maniacal about her E, she doesn't eat for 8 hours before she takes it, doesn't drink any alcohol 24 hours before she doses, only drinks copious amounts of water all night and secretly has a mouth guard stashed in her purse along with several packs of gum, it's like a fucking dossier of rules and regulations when she wants to roll.

"Wait this thing isn't all ages, is it?" Fuck, I hated having to wonder if I would be hanging with 16 year old girls tripping for their first time clutching glow sticks and flashing jewelry and random other crap hanging off of them.

"Nope, Tanya's throwing it, 21 and over."

Fuck, Tanya, a previous MDMAistake as Alice likes to call it.

"When do you wanna go?"

"I told Jasper we'd meet him at 1:00."

"Alright, I'm gonna take a shower then, there's leftover pasta in the fridge along with some beers, help yourself," she just rolls her eyes at me.

I get out of the shower wrapping a towel around myself. It's a nice night out, I grab a pair of soft, frayed khakis and a t-shirt that says _My child is an Honor Roll student at St. Martin of Tours_. Carlisle was pissed I took this shirt from him, I told him I was pissed we had to go to a school named for the Patron Saint of Alcoholics. Esme thanked me for getting it away from Carlisle, he's worn that shirt for the past nine or ten years and Esme does not appreciate a grubby looking Carlisle. I find a pair of Adidas and go out to find Alice filling up a Klean Kanteen with a bottle of Evian. I told her she was being counter productive.

"You want to hit these?" I stick out my hand with two Pills in it, Alice takes hers and pops it in her mouth like a gumdrop and washes it down with the rest of her Evian. I grab a glass of tap water and swallow mine down. I check my phone, grab some cash and debit card, and some gum along with my house key. Alice is looking at me, clearly irritated. I wanted to spend some time chilling before we left so the effects would hit me soon after arriving at the party. After five or so minutes I run out of stuff to do, at least I'm still feeling the weed.

"Let it begin," I say. Alice gives me a gigantic smile and we head down to the lobby and out onto the street. The doorman from the hotel next to my building whistles for a cab, I slip him a $10 bill, he always looks out for my shit, he gives me a nod.

We tell the cab driver the intersection, he drives through the nearly deserted downtown streets like hell on fire, but he has the windows down, the wind feels good against my skin. If I weren't with Alice I would have walked, early summer nights walking the quiet streets surrounded by office buildings, the Chicago River, Wacker Drive, and an always twilight looking light in the downtown sky are inspiring. Not like _I'm gonna climb Mount Olympus_ inspiring, but just get inside your head and work shit out, kind of inspiring. I don't share this with Alice though.

"Alice, what kind of party is this?"

"Tanya throwing a retro loft kind of party. She's got a bunch of DJs and rooms set up, there might be a live performance too, she wasn't sure though when I talked to her."

"What does she mean by retro?" I mean, am I walking into some Studio 54 wannabe crap or retro from like high school? It's too broad of a term.

"Something like DJs who came up through Chicago before hitting it big, she's holding it in a loft that used to have lots of afterhours and stuff. I don't know, Edward, what's the big deal? We're on the list."

Fuck, we should be on the list to make up for that poor excuse of mouthing she tried to pass off as a blowjob.

"There's no big deal, I don't care if we're on the list or not, I just don't want to have wasted some of this," I vaguely gesture to my head to indicate the E I had just taken, "on some aspiring party trying to capture a time in our lives when we were like toddlers, at most. Why doesn't she just call it a party?"

Alice sighs dramatically, "Edward, can you just not be a dick tonight, just chill your shit out? This is Tanya's thing right now, she's all into house music, she's daddy issuing some dude who's like older than fuck who used to own a bunch of clubs, she's just being her regular chameleonic self. Just _be_ tonight. Will you do that for me?"

I reach over and rub between her shoulders, she leans her head against my arm.

A few minutes later we reach our destination, Alice skips out of the car while I pay the driver, after getting out I walk over to Alice where she's standing with Jasper.

"Say, man, got a joint?" Jasper asks me.

"No, not on me, man," I smirk, we spent three years in college getting high while watching _Dazed and Confused_.

"It'd be a lot cooler if you did. Well all right, all right, all right" Jasper drawls out like Matthew McConaughey's Wooderson.

"Don't start that shit tonight," Alice warns, nearly stamping her foot down on the ground.

"Easy, baby doll, we're all gonna have a good night," Jasper leans down and kisses her on the top of her head. Alice leans in and puts her arm around his waist.

I've never seen two more disparate people fit one another so well. They didn't look alike, hold any of the same mannerisms or social backgrounds or similar interests, but they _know_ each other. Alice is a triple shot Red Eye and Jasper is warm milk with peppermint but they just accept it without question.

"Hey, are you kids enjoying right now?" Jasper raises his eyebrows asking Alice and I.

"Yeah, we took it about a half an hour ago, I'm just starting to feel it kick in," Alice replied. She looked at me and I nod my head with a smile. I was starting to feel it too.

"Cool, me too. Come one, let's make an appearance," Jasper said, taking Alice's hand and leading the way in and up to the second floor.

I could hear the music, but I felt it more so. The thump-thump-thump of the bass is radiating through my body.

We reach the landing and there stands Tanya in all of her strawberry-haired glory. She's wearing some sort of tight butter colored Geisha girl dress with little flowers embroidered all over it that is piped with a sea foam green color. I wonder why I notice all this but couldn't decide to care enough to think about it.

"Hi Tanya," Alice bounces out. Once the E hits Alice she's nothing but giggles and a taut bundle of explosive energy.

"Hey, Alice, Jasper," she pauses and looks me up and down, I am almost embarrassed for her, eyeing me like the last condom and she's a hooker at a podiatrist convention.

"Tanya," I say to throw her off her crumpet. She leans her head to the side and offers me her cheek, I'm not an asshole, I lean down and give it a kiss.

"Edward, I'm glad you came tonight," it's disgusting how she's acting like we're long lost lovers, hardly the case. We hooked up once or twice, both times being chemically induced, she was nothing more than a side effect. Okay, that's a shitty thing to say about someone, but she used me just as much as I used her, I don't have any illusions about it. "I hope you can meet Aristotle this evening, you'll simply adore him I like I do."

"Sounds very nice Tanya, I hope to meet him as well," the music is starting to grow colors, I want some water, and I want away from her before I make another mistake.

Security pats us down and looks through Alice's purse.

"Here you three, there's a tank of nitrous in the main room," Tanya gifts us with three deflated punch ball balloons.

"Thanks Tanya, we'll come get you in a little bit," Alice bubbles and pulls Jasper through the door.

"I'll see you later, Ed," Tanya winks at me.

I kind of give her a smile, hoping I can avoid her for the rest of the night. I enter and notice two baskets filled with glow sticks and necklaces. There are bodies on the dance floor lighting up at random times, their pale green constant glowing movements are more disconcerting to me than anything else.

I look around and find the line for the tank, I walk over and Jasper and Alice are already waiting.

"Nothing better to get a night started than a little oxygen deprivation to the brain," Jasper jokes.

"Sweetie," Alice drips from her mouth, "would you get my balloon filled while I go dance?"

"I'll come find you in a few," Jasper says and trails his fingers down her bare arm. Alice grabs his hand and kisses his fingertips. He watches as she bounces away.

Jasper and I stand in line for a few more minutes and are finally rewarded with three bulging balloons. Jasper leaves me the two so he can go find Alice and we can do the first one together.

"Ready you guys?" Alice bubbles over. I have given Alice the smallest one, she always tips over when she does one of these things, I neither want her to hurt herself nor waste the gas.

We all inhale our first lungful. Fuck, I love this stuff, everything slowed down for a few moments, coupled with the E and it's like I can feel the earth's rotation, hear the decibels float through the sky and watch the light flicker like it's an old 8mm home movie, one where the sound's all garbled.

I finish up the balloon and tuck it in my pocket to get a refill later. Alice and Jasper have started making out so I leave to go check out the other rooms. But first I have to get some more water.

While I stand at the bar Tanya walks up with whom I imagine to be her new complex.

"Oh, Eddie, I'm so glad you're here," she's acting like I didn't just see her 20 minutes ago. What a ridiculous girl.

"Eddie, this is Aristotle, Ari, this is Edward, he's a good friend of mine," I hope she's not trying to make this guy jealous, he can have her, no contest.

"Please, just call me Aro, I don't know where she's come up with the Aristotle shit," he says the last part so that Tanya can't hear him.

I laugh, the guy's kinda funny, he sure knew how to call Tanya out on her pretension. I look at him again; one thing is he must either have a lot of money, one long dick with skills, or really good drugs, because this guy looks like a cross between Iggy Pop and Bjork, black hair hanging limply from his head and white crepey skin. He's like a car accident, I know I should stop looking but for some reason can't tear my eyes away.

"Oh, look, Kate's here, I'll be back boys," and Tanya leans over to give Aro a kiss on his cheek all the while keeping her eyes on me, I figure she's intending it to look hot but it does not, it just looks like she's trying to hard.

"Here, come outside with me while I have a cigarette," Aro invites me with a gesture of his hand.

We weave our way through a couple of rooms and finally make it to a back set of stairs and proceed down, letting out to a surprisingly clean and well lit alley. Which is good, I didn't want to be out here amongst rats and stench. The light is sodium vapor, giving off green and tan coloring. Aro and I lean up along the wall and he reaches into his sport coat pocket to pull out a pack of Chesterfield filters. How old are these cigarettes? I thought these guys would have had to go out of business after my grandma died, she was pissed as shit when she couldn't smoke being hooked up to an oxygen tank. Thank God they never took away her double Manhattans. He offers me one.

"Yeah, thanks," I say, pulling one from the box. Aro does the same. He hands me a lighter, a Cartier lighter. The guy is a cliché. I expect him to pull out a vial of coke from around his neck and offer me a diamond-encrusted spoon along with it.

He takes a deep drag and exhales with his head turned up to the sky. I'm wondering why he asked me out here if he wasn't going to speak. I continue to smoke my cigarette, leaning my head against the building and rubbing the back of my neck with my free hand. I'm craving physical contact and wonder how long before I can get back to the party.

"So, Edward, you and Tanya were a couple?" he asks, although he already knows the answer.

"You want me to be upfront with you, Aro?" I wasn't really planning on having a heart to heart with this guy while high but for some reason he seems curious.

"I don't want you to lie, if that's what you're asking? If you don't feel comfortable saying anything, I can respect that."

I turn and look at him, I think he has a glass eye, his eyes are a light blue and almost watery. I wonder how old he is. I stop myself from reaching out to touch him to find out what his skin feels like.

"We were never a couple, we've hooked up a time or two," I look at him trying to appraise his reaction but he's playing it close to the vest. "I know her through my sister and Tanya likes to, uh, party, I see her around."

Aro doesn't say anything. This guy is interesting, I have no idea why he's asking me about any of this. He can't think Tanya is his beloved or anything.

"What's your interest in her?" I ask.

"Oh, no real interest. I'm not a fool, I know why women are attracted to me. You know, the classics; wealth, recognition, power," he waves his hand dismissively. "I like that I can get young women to give me pleasure in exchange for a few dinners or baubles or the like," he looks at me and slightly shrugs his shoulders. "I don't provide them with drugs, that's not my thing."

I believe him. He's kind of little sad, really. He knows women's interest in him is a purely a falsehood.

"Listen, man," I start, "Tanya's fun, I don't think she's a flake, even if she might seem unoriginal like that. She has her beauty and we both know pretty girls get lazy and see that as their only attribute, at least that's been my experience," which it has been. "If you wanna be honest with yourself, decide if you just want to go along and fuck her or if you want to see if she has any interest in you – and you her," I add.

He pulls out another cigarette and offers me one, but I shake my head.

"She wanted me to ask you into a threesome tonight," he states, he's looking ahead, not at me, thankfully. "Not my thing, but I was willing to oblige her. She obviously doesn't really want to sleep with me, she just likes the decadence I can provide her."

What the shit is this? Fuck, I'm practically tripping balls here, want nothing more than a gallon of water and some soft, _girly_ touches against my skin and I've got Methuselah pouring his shit out to me?

"Well, then, I think you have your answer. Sorry man, not my thing either," and I turn to go back to the party.

"Here, it's my business card, I appreciate you being honest with me, so if you need anything you have my contact information."

"Yeah, thanks," and I stick my hand out to shake his, I'm a man, the guy was straight, with me, he deserves not to feel like a parody. Plus I really want to feel the texture of his skin. He takes my hand and tells me to take it easy, I leave and go up the stairs. His skin was loose but really soft. I have to find something to erase it from my memory.

I'm upstairs looking around for Jasper and Alice, I drink another bottle of water and am making my way through the main room back to the less feverish jazz room. There's some unassuming guy spinning a mix of jazz, hip-hop, soul and spoken word, I've heard it before and I like it. I lean up against the wall and again feel the music flowing through my body, it feels good. A big standing fan is oscillating back and forth and the air keeps hitting my face and my hair brushes about my forehead, it too, feels good. My eyes are closed and the colors are dancing about, I forget about Aro's earlier proposition. I reach into my pocket and grab a stick of gum bending it into my mouth. I feel my body moving of its own accord, everything is soft and blurry. It all feels good. I feel good.

At some point there's something, someone taking my hips and pulling me away from the wall. I open my eyes and look down to a girl. She's looking back at me with unhurried eyes, her lids are not entirely open and her hips swaying, but she's steady on her feet. My skin feels her touch. My blood feels her touch. Waves roll up and down my sides, electricity culminating where the girl has gently put her hands on my skin underneath the hem of my shirt. She pulls me towards the dance floor and starts to dance with me. She turns around so her back is against me lightly and I feel her ass slightly rub up against my cock. I travel my hands from her shoulders down her bare arms and rest my hands on her hips. I feel her hum where our bodies are touching.

We stay like this for a few minutes, hours, I have not a clue. She turns around and wraps her arms around my neck, then glides her fingers down my arms trailing her fingernails, it is so good. I now feel the blood pumping through my appendages. Where her touch has been leaves a tail of sparks and tiny explosions. I return the touches to her, she closes her eyes and slides her tongue across her full bottom lip and slightly juts the lip out. After a moment she softly pulls me down my shirt so she can say something in my ear.

"What's your name?" she languorously drawls out. And before she releases me she gives the shell of my ear a lick with that tip of her tongue. Fuck, that feels too good. My cock, which has been stirring throughout our dance, starts becoming fully awake.

I lean over to her ear, "Edward," I breath out, I see her shoulders give a shudder. "Tell me yours?" I ask.

She leans her mouth back to my ear, "Mmm, you can call me Bee," she pauses to see the somewhat puzzled look on my face, "like sting," and she makes a buzzing sound and loops her hand around before landing on my forearm with her fingertip like she's stinging me. I chuckle in response. I watch as the smile crosses her face, even in this lighting I see her eyes twinkling.

"Oh, Eddie," I am being gripped on my shoulder, pulling me out of the singular moment I'm having with this girl – Bee. I turn around and am faced with Tanya's overly whitened teeth smiling at me. I don't say anything, irritated at her interruption. Bee has taken my hand, pulling my arm behind me while she continues to sway to the music, if Tanya sees this she doesn't let on.

"Eddie, did you talk with Ari?"

"He said his name is Aro," I level back at her. Electricity is flowing up and down my arm and hand, the one that Bee is holding.

"Oh, I know, I don't like that name too much so I call him Ari, he thinks it's cute," during this exchange Tanya has moved closer in to me and has put her hand on my chest.

"Eddie, did you want to leave with Ari and I tonight, I think the three of us could have some fun together."

Just as I'm about to say something Bee turns herself around, in the process wrapping my arm around her waist. She briefly looks at Tanya.

"Come on, lover, I thought you said we were leaving?" And finishing her question she reaches up and trails her fingertips down the side of my face and along my jaw line. I feel like I'm transported by this girl's touch.

I watch Tanya's eyes widen momentarily before turning into angry slits towards me. I pretend like I don't notice.

"I'm sorry Tanya, I have previous plans. But I liked Aro, I think he's a good guy, please give him my regards," I sound like a country club cotillion, but I feel for the guy, he's tired of the merry-go-round and Tanya is on it trying to control the switches. I remove her hand from my chest and take Bee's hand and head out of the room.

Once we make our way through the party and out the door I lean over, "You didn't have to do that," I state to this girl.

"I want to leave," she looks at me straight on. "I want to leave with you."

I look back at her. I didn't notice her beauty before. We're standing in the hallway, still feeling the thump of the bass but the lighting out here is bright, a buzzing fluorescent above us. Even in this harsh, green light, she looks good. Thick and wavy brown curls fall over her shoulders. She has on a white, silky looking strapless top, which gently clings to her round breasts and her shapely torso. While she is a good head or so shorter than me her velvety creamy legs seem so long in her short black skirt. I want nothing more at the moment to touch her back of her thighs and down along her knees. I stop my perusal and look back at her.

"You want to walk or take a cab?" I ask.

"How long of a walk?"

"I don't know, maybe about two miles, we can take a cab, I have money." I'm not a cheap fucker. I just want to keep moving and I hope she does too. I look at her feet, if she's wearing some tall fuck shoes then I'll just get us a ride, she doesn't need to tear up her feet to satisfy my whim. She's wearing a pair of black flat sandals.

"No, a walk sounds good, we can always get a cab along the way if not."

I take her hand and guide her down the stairs. We reach the street and I turn north and we start walking. When we get to Wacker Drive we cross the street to walk along the river.

"Wait, stop a minute," Bee says to me. She reaches into her purse and pulls out a small, black digital camera.

"Here," she moves me over to the railing and brings the camera up to her line of sight. "Do you mind if I take your picture?" she asks after she has spent the past several moments repositioning her camera, apparently to find the right framing.

I laugh, "You're asking me that now?" She doesn't reply. "Yeah, go ahead." I look at the camera, still sort of laughing. The camera is a Leica, smaller than her hand, Carlisle would be jealous. She pops the flash up and hits the shutter a few of times. She then brings it down and is flipping through the shots. She doesn't say anything.

"Shit," and she looks up at me, I grab my phone from my pocket and send Jasper and Alice a text letting them know I left and would talk to them later.

"Crap," she says and puts her camera back in her bag and pulls out her phone. She types and sends off a message of her own. She smirks up at me. We join hands and continue walking.

"Your friend going to be okay getting home?" I ask her.

"Yeah, she's there with her boyfriend, she'll be cool."

"Good."

We are standing at a crosswalk waiting for the light to change, there are just enough cars that we have to stand for what feels like eternity. She stands on her tiptoes and kisses my neck, leaving gentle licks afterwards. Continues to feel good.

"Come on, we're not far." I want this girl back at my place. My cock is stirring again and I'm curious what this girl will be like. She approached me, deftly handled Tanya, posed me for a picture; I want to see what other things she takes charge of.

Before we get to my place I stop. Even in the midst of my drug-addled state, I don't know this girl at all, and she doesn't know me either. I want to give her an out if she wants one.

"Bee?"

"Yeah, baby?" I am not entirely bothered by her term of endearment.

"We're almost to my place, are you sure you want to come up with me?" I look at her face, searching for some type of indication of regret or apprehension. Yeah, I want nothing more than to be sheathed inside of her or have her lips wrapped around my cock or my fingers in her panties, but if she's not comfortable then I'll see her home, if that's what she wants.

She looks at me for several moments, I don't know what she's looking for, maybe something to trust. She takes my wrists in her hands, still feels good.

"You're not like, Patrick Bateman, are you?" She raises her eyebrow at me, there's only a slight hint of teasing in her voice. "I mean, am I like your first? Will I be your first victim but right now you're have second thoughts about carving me up?" All the while she's spewing this out her, fingernails are just lightly scratching back and forth on the inside of my wrist, I'm almost too distracted by it to pay full attention to her diatribe. Although I caught her questioning if I am a serial killing cannibal. I hated that book, I started having to skip over the gruesome parts, I couldn't read it at night, it freaked me the fuck out. I need to change this subject before this turns out all wrong.

"Hey, hey, hey," I grasp her hands between mine, "you asked me to leave with you. Remember? I'm asking you because I want you to have a choice, not to feel like this went too far or something."

She brought her hand to my face, cupping my cheek, still looking into my eyes. I see them change, they soften.

"I can't wait to feel you," she whispers out. Fuck, it takes everything within me not to be a Neanderthal and throw her over my shoulder and carry her back to my cave. Instead I take her hand and we approach my building.

I have to be honest, I don't normally brings girls back to my place. It's too much of a hassle, I'm not trying to make a relationship out of a hookup, but after we finish that's what they want to turn it into. It's just easier, and I rationalize, more honest to be the guy who leaves too early in the morning without a note or a kiss goodbye.

We round the corner and are going past the hotel, Felix, the doorman tips his hat at me, I raise my chin in acknowledgement. We walk into my building's lobby, Gustavo is still sitting at the desk amongst all of the travertine coolness, he also nods his head to me.

We get on the elevator and I hit the button for the 67th floor. Bee has not commented about my building, my building is another reason why I don't generally bring girls back here, they think they can get more out of me by my tony address, the size of my home and the stunning views offered.

"I'm Edward Cullen," I think it's important for her to know my last name. In some circles this name means something, I wait to see if she gives any type of recognition. She does not.

She moves closer to my side, our arms are touching.

"I'm Bee Dwyer."

She's quiet for a moment then opens her mouth, "What was with the Crest white strip girl? I mean, am I getting you in trouble?"

It's the first sign of uncertainty that she shows.

"She was a brief past thing, you haven't caused any trouble," I answer honestly.

We don't say anything else and exit the elevator when it reaches my floor. I go to unlock the door and gesture for her to enter first. I flick on the lights in the foyer and she pauses and looks around. She continues to walk in and stops when she reaches the living room, she's looking out the windows east over the lake and south over downtown.

"Are you kidding me with this?" she turns and asks me, her face is a mix of surprise and humor. I'm thankful this is how she is.

"This is your place?" I think she's asking me if I live with my parents.

"It was my parent's, it's mine now," is all I answer.

"What, did they relocate to something smaller, like Versailles?" she jokes.

I walk over to her and wrap my arms around her waist. I lean down to give her a kiss, pausing first, waiting for her permission, she leans in towards me. Her back is pressed against the glass of the window, she's raised her arms above her head, like she's in full supplication. I take my hand and gently grab her wrists, holding them above her head, my other hand travels down her side and lightly rest on the outside of her ass. I hear her hum in approval.

"I like the greetings here in Le Cullen Castle."

I take my tongue and pull it up along the side of her neck, moving to give her kisses on and behind her ear. She has removed her hands from my grasp and has brought them to my hair and is alternately pulling at the tufts and scratching my scalp, fuck, so good.

"So messy," she says, running her fingers through my mind of its own hair, I stop and look at her, amusement must be showing in my eyes.

"I was afraid you would have had pounds of shit in it, but no, this mess is all natural," she teases.

"Cowlicks," I say nuzzling back to her neck.

Bee is giving little moans, I don't think I can take too much more of this, I press her against the glass and start to lift her up underneath her ass, she cottons on and wraps her legs around my waist, I carry her back to my room, all the while continuing to kiss the base of her neck. I gently set her down on my bed.

Bee doesn't pause, she scoots forward runs her hands just above the waistband of my pants, then she dips her fingers underneath and runs them along there too. When she gets back to the front she tugs me forward and unbuttons the top button and slowly pulls down the zipper, I practically feel each tooth against my hardened cock.

I watch her while she does this, pushes down my pants, I kick off my Adidas and step aside and kick both my shoes and pants out of the way. I hope she continues to take charge.

"I didn't picture you as a boxer boy," she once again teases me. "Quite the preppy," she says before leaning forward and placing light kisses along the trail from my belly button to the top of my boxers. But then she stands up against me and starts kissing me. Yeah, this is nice but not what I had planned at the moment.

Except that her tongue is long and enters my mouth and tangles and strokes my own tongue so that I don't even notice her turning us around until she eases me onto the bed.

I look up at her surprised. She doesn't take her eyes off of me while undoes the zipper on the side of her top and wriggles it past her hips and onto the floor. She reaches behind her and undoes the zipper on her short black skirt and also slides that down kicking it away, probably to join my ball of clothes. She slips her shoes off and she stands in front of me waiting and watching as my eyes travel her form.

The moonlight is streaming in the windows, illuminating her skin an indigo, milky white. Her hair is around her shoulders and back and mussed up just enough that she looks like a French film ingénue. She's wearing a white strapless bra and black lacy bikinis. I take her hips and pull her towards me, the contact filling a need more than just tactile. My whole body is vibrating at our touches and caresses.

"Edward," Bee's speech is slow, and sounds like spun sugar, delicately sweet. When she speaks my name she draws it out, _Eedward_. It coats me licentiously with sticky pleasure.

"Baby, get a condom, I told you I couldn't wait to feel you inside of me."

I scoot up a bit and reach behind me, pulling out a condom from the nightstand and handing it to her, she sets it down next to her, but not before laughing lightly. I look at her, freaking out a little bit.

"My night keeps getting better and better," she holds up the package which says Magnum on it, I can't help but give her a smirk.

"Here, help me get Brooks Brother off of you," I lift my hips up while she pulls my boxers off. I have propped myself up on my elbows, watching her. She stands next to the bed and unhooks her bra releasing two beautifully rounded and full breasts, she runs her hands down her front, stopping to pinch her nipples, she lets out a little moan, the E still affecting our stimulation. Next she hooks her thumbs on her panties and pulls them down and returns to sit on my thighs.

She takes the condom ripping the package and slowly rolls it down my length. Even her touch practically makes my hip buck.

"You're pretty big Edward, I'm kinda small," shit, my night keeps getting better and better too, "I'm gonna have to take it slow at first."

"I'll be gentle," I promise her, "take you time," I hope she doesn't take too long though.

She poises herself over me, reaching down between her legs gathering her generous wetness, swirling around, rubbing her clit, when she dips one, then two fingers into herself she lets out another moan, she pulls her fingers out and brings them to my mouth and rubs her wetness along my lips, I lick, tasting her delicate musk.

"Whew, that was hot," she leans forward and kisses me. When she stops, she reaches behind her to take my cock and guides it to her entrance and starts to settle down, bringing it into her.

"That's it baby, feel me," I say rubbing my hands along her shoulders and down to her breasts pinching her nipples in the process.

"Uhhh," she breathes out when I'm fully inside of her, "wait for just a moment," she asks. She is extremely tight, she waits for her body to adjust to my girth. Slowly she starts to ride me, I grab onto her hips and guide her. She bends down and is licking my nipples, it all feels so good.

Our movements become frenetic, both of us striving for completion, for climaxes.

"Baby, are you close?" I ask, I feel my balls tightening up and know I'm close, but I want Bee to cum first.

"So close," she takes her middle finger and puts it in her mouth and brings it down to start rubbing her clit while continuing to take my length in and out of her, I move one hand to her breast and start massaging it, my other resting against the her ass, my hips are meeting her movement for movement, she speeds up her pace. I watch as her eyes scrunch up and she starts to practically pant and cry out. When she reaches her climax lets out one last cry causing me to cum, I grunt and thrust to ride out the wave.

"Ooof, fuck," Bee say, rolling off to lie next to me on the bed.

I remove the condom, tie it up and toss it into the trashcan. I lean over her kissing her, my hands planted on either head, my shoulders flexed by the action.

"Oh, baby, that was so good," she sounds like she just ran around the block.

"Yeah," I kiss her neck and down to her breasts, she puts her hands back in my hair. I roll back over to wait for my pulse to slow down.

"You know, sex with a relative stranger is usually sort of awkward, it wasn't with you," she states. I hum in agreement taking her hand in mine, stroking her long and slender hand.

"Edward?" Bee asks a several minutes later. "Do you mind if I take a shower? I kind of want to wash that party off of me," she explains.

"Yeah, sure, the bathroom is through that door, there's clean towels in the closet," thank goodness I have a housekeeper who takes care of the shit I never think of.

Bee goes to our discarded pile of clothes and slips my honor roll t-shirt on. I watch and think the good Brothers of St. Martin's never intended this shirt to be worn like this. I lean up on my elbow and watch her and she gets her purse and goes into my bathroom. After a moment she's calling for me. I get up and walk in to see what she wants.

"How does this thing work?" she points to my glassed in shower, it is probably overwhelming, there's three levers and a dial to control temperature, plus a control panel outside of it for the steam function. It really is ridiculous.

I reach in and turn the water on, leaving the side sprays off, I open the door for her to get in. She pulls the shirt off and enters. I turn to leave.

"Aren't you going to join me?" she asks.

Normally I don't like to fuck in the shower, too many balance issues and slippery surfaces, but Bee was right about washing that party off, so I open the door and get in with her.

We just let the water hit us, turning on the jets, kissing each other lightly over one another's body. She takes the soap to wash me and I return the favor. When we get out I hand her a fresh towel and watch as she bends over to dry her hair then wraps the towel around herself tucking in the excess around her breasts, she looks fucking stunning.

"Um, Edward, I'm kind of tired of tripping my ass off, can we go get something to eat, or can I make us something?"

"Yeah, I have stuff in the fridge, we can make something together."

We walk out of the bathroom, I give her a fresh t-shirt, this one says, _My boy hit a homerun today!_ Another shirt wrestled away from Carlisle. Bee looks at it a rolls her eyes at me.

"Real subtle, Cullen."

I shrug my shoulders. I put on a clean pair of boxers and hand her a pair as well. She pulls them on folding them over so they stay on.

We make some breakfast and sit in the living room to watch the sun come up over the lake.

Bee spends the rest of the weekend at my place.

I am sitting in the back of the auditorium named after my adoptive family. I watch the stage as Sr. Cope goes through announcements for the upcoming year, letting everyone know about the new teachers, new activities and additional volunteer opportunities. Students are sent to return to their classrooms to get schedules, locker assignments and books list.

Tomorrow I start my job as an English teacher here are St. Jude's Academy for Young Women. This wasn't my planned job but this is how things worked out and will for the next nine months.

I don't have a have a homeroom to attend to, just three classes, Freshman English, Junior English, and Senior Honors English. I have been scrambling for the past month coming up with lesson plans, I was given Miss Tanner's plans and wanted to make some changes to it, to make it less staid and more interesting for both student and teacher.

Tomorrow will be my first day of teaching in an all girls' school. Jasper thought it would be one porn fantasy after the next, he had changed my ringtone to _Don't Stand So Close To Me_, I told him he was an unoriginal fuck.

As I was leaving the auditorium to complete copying the syllabi for my three classes my phone vibrates, I pull it out and see Bee Dwyer and a picture of her eye and eyebrow she had taken the morning after our first night together. I smile and open the message.

_-__**Just finishing my first day and am thinking about your tongue. Can I see you tonight?**_

I laughed to myself, Bee hated texting, although she did it, claiming it was a necessary evil, but foresaw our language in the next 10 years being reduced to numbers and letters with the longest word being _Yes_. She combated it with typing all words out properly. I stepped out into the empty lobby.

We had not called what we did this summer, dating, although spent most nights together. Bee didn't want to label anything, she said she had to start school in the fall and needed to focus on that, but would be around and hopefully we could still hookup. Somehow for not dating we spent nearly the entire summer with one another. She had been vague about school, I didn't tell her about my job, that was just the way we were, she didn't have issues by it and I figured if I pushed she would go. I like being around her, after our first night it was like we never were off the Ecstasy; we actually did few drugs over the summer. I liked her, she wasn't full of issues and deception.

_-__**Yes, please, Im almost done 2**_

She wrote back almost instantly.

-_**I'll see you at 7:00.**_

I slipped my phone back into my pocket and returned to the English Department to finish my tasks.

Bee left by 10:00 PM saying she had early classes tomorrow and needed to go, she kissed me and said she hoped to see me this weekend or next. I walked her to the elevator and watched her leave.

Since I was such a late hire I do not have a homeroom, homeroom teachers received extra money for the additional effort, I had enough money, I didn't need to take a job away from someone who needed the income, plus, I enjoyed my relatively light schedule of just three classes. I arrived at school by 8:00 AM, Esme had come over before I left with a brown bagged lunch, I laughed asking her if she would do this every morning, she told me no, but wanted me to know how proud and excited she was of and for me. I thanked her and gave her a kiss on her cheek, leaving to walk to school.

My first two classes went well, Junior English and Freshman English back to back followed by two free periods and Senior Honors English being the last period of the day.

I sat at my desk not looking up, re-stapling the syllabi, I had found an error and had to reprint the second page. I heard snippets of conversations as the girls walked in.

"…and Ben's taking me to…"

"…I hear this new teacher…"

"…Bella, why didn't I see you on the 4th?..."

I smiled to myself. Bee was supposed to go to Lake Geneva for a party of a friend's of hers, she skipped at the last minute and we spent the night of July 3rd, in my living room on my couch while I went down on Bee as she watched the fireworks going off out my windows. Jokingly, I had put on the Tchaikovsky's _1812 Overture_, her climax hitting right at the finale. She laughed once she had caught her breath telling me I was over the top in my cheesiness, but then kissed me wanting to taste her patriotic pussy on my lips. I told her that her alliteration was shameless.

I finished what I was doing as the girls had settled in their desks.

"Ladies, I am Mr. Masen, I'll be teaching your class this year. Uh, where you're seated will be your seats for the next year, change now if this is not okay." I went to my podium to get the list of students and the seating diagram Alice had made for me so I could write the names in the assigned seats.

I started to take attendance.

"Rachel Black?"

"Here."

"Rebecca Black?"

Jasper was going to have a field day with twin girls in Catholic schoolgirl uniforms.

I proceed down the list.

"Jessica Stanley?"

"Here, Mr. Masen," I looked up to see an overeager girl raising her hand, flapping her hand in the air.

"Isabella Swan?"

"Here," I hear spun sugar and quickly look around the room to see where the voice is coming from. In the back row I see waves of chestnut brown hair cascading across shoulders. Bee looks up and holds her pen seductively against her full, bottom lip.

"Uh, Mr. Masen, I go by Bella."

* * *

**a/n** Thanks for getting to the bottom, I don't think every chapter will be this long. Let me know what you think by reviewing, I would appreciate it. The music I describe at the party is based on Mark Farina's Mushroom Jazz series, I think it's awesome, I posted a random track link on on my profile, give it a listen if you are so inclined. This story will be told from Edward's POV, I tried writing a multi POV story and scrapped it because I found it tedious and tiresome, but with that being said I could give Bee / Bella's point of view at some point if there's any interest.


	2. Chapter 2

Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer.

Craptacular week, topped off with losing power this weekend due to crazy, wicked storms in Chicago, blew out my wireless router, so Steve Jobs now has $200+ of my hard earned dollars in his pocket and I have a new Airport Extreme.

My apologies in advance for past and I am certain, present grammatical / spelling errors. For this story, the italicized portions are flashbacks, everything else would be current time, if you're confused it should be clear by the end of the chapter. Also, I spent 12 years in Catholic school, I only had three male teachers, one was gay, two were married and none were younger than 45.

* * *

Chapter Two

_After we had eaten our breakfast and smoked a little weed to try and trick the effects of the E and get some sleep, we went back to my room to have sex again._

_This time it was less frenzied, and less desperate. I had kissed the rise of her breasts, she had left a hickey on my shoulder. I had entered her with my fingers, watching her as they hit that special spot, the spot where she said no one had ever hit before, I watched as it unraveled her, listened to the sound fall from her mouth and lips as she climaxed. When her eyes focused on my smile she buried her face into the side of her arm, suddenly shy, I took her face in my hands and dropped little kisses across her delicate visage. _

_We had slept until four in the afternoon, both awakening feeling flat and restless and without drive; Bee said she was feeling sixes and sevens. I couldn't have agreed more._

_She had gone into the kitchen and come out to join me in the living room, I was sitting, leaning against the arm of the couch with my knees propped up, looking out the window at the blue of the sky. Bee came back in and sat, straddling me, leaning against my bent knees. She reached into the bowl and ate a piece of sliced strawberry. She reached in again and took another slice out and placed it in her mouth. I watched transfixed. Her tongue came out and she dragged it across licking up the corner before pulling back into her mouth. Then she laughed._

"_Seriously, what are you, like a 12 year old boy?"_

"_You're sitting here after a night of some serious fucking, wearing my t-shirt and boxers eating a bowl of strawberries, why don't you just get a can of whipped cream and build yourself a bikini, too?" She looked at me all innocent eyed. "And don't act all coy, either." _

_She raised her knees and I heard a loud pop._

"_Cripes, what was that?" I asked her._

"_It's my leg," is all she answers._

"_What's wrong with it?"_

"_I broke it a few years ago."_

"_Your leg, what like, the whole thing?" I ask as my hand travels up her calf, to her knee and then along the back of her thigh. _

_She sighs and I pull my hand away._

"_I shouldn't have asked," I said._

"_No, you shouldn't have, but I broke my femur, tibia and fibula," she tells me, her eyes are closed. I didn't intend to make her uncomfortable, I reach to rub her thigh._

"_That's a lot of bad shit," I state stupidly._

_She smiles, "Yeah, it was. It was fucked up for so long it's taken forever to rebuild any type of strength. I try to go running every day to keep muscle tone. My leg is a little shorter too."_

_I lean over and kiss her knee and turn back and look at her, the lighting is even in the room, the sun having moved to the west._

_She resumes eating her fruit. She leans forward and feeds me some strawberries. She pulls her head back and fixes me with her gaze._

"_Has anyone ever told you your eyes are the color of the Chicago River on St. Patrick's Day?" she asks._

_I laugh, "Nope, I'd have to say, you're the first," I give her a smirk. _

"_Yeah, well, they do."_

"I know you won't be able to quit me, Edward because I won't be able to quit you. Regardless of how much you think you want to, I know you don't. You're just like me, you need this. I don't know why this is, maybe we're like a drug to one another, maybe the high fills all of the need and want we have in our life. And I so wish this wasn't the case, because I don't want to live my life like this, live my life one day at a time so I can get over you. But since this is what you want, I will respect it, it's the only thing I can do."

(back to earlier in the day, Senior AP English)

I look at Bee for what seems like eternities, she simply stares back at me, although she is absently sucking on the cap of her pen. Finally I draw my eyes away from hers, hoping like hell none of the other students noticed the nonverbal exchange.

With everything in my being I continue the task at hand of taking attendance.

"And, Angela Weber," I call, finally reaching the end.

"Here."

"Alright, ladies, please take a syllabus and pass it back and look it over, if you'll excuse me for a moment, I left some papers we'll need for this class, I'll be right back."

I nearly sprint out the door. What the fuck is Bee doing sitting in my classroom? I go to the teacher's lounge which is thankfully empty and I step into the restroom. I take my phone out of my pocket and start to text Bee, fuck, I can't do that. Fuck it, I have to do it.

-_**we need 2 talk**_

I hit send, I know I should have waited but I'm at a loss. Fuck, I just saw her last night, I did more than just see her.

Fuck.

Less than eight hours into my new job and I have already fucked a student, done drugs with said student, and ditched a class to hide in a bathroom. I stay in the bathroom a moment waiting for a reply, I receive none.

When I exit the restroom I run into Sr. Cope.

"Edward, shouldn't you be in a class at the moment?"

I've known Sr. Cope since I was a kid, _Sr. Shelly_, she's not someone I want to let down and I feel like a miscreant when I lie to her.

"My apologies, Sister, I had some first day nerves, I'm returning there right now." She takes my hand between hers and gives it a pat. Shit, if I wasn't on an oil slicked slide to the bowels of hell before, there was now an engraved invitation inviting me down.

"You'll be fine, dear, I have faith in you." With that she turned and walked towards the convent. Well, just kick my ass down and line my pockets with explosives.

I grab a stack of paperbacks, not even glancing at what I have in my hands and make my way back to the classroom. My phone has not vibrated with a response from Bee. When I enter the room the girls turn back around in their seats and watch as I dole out copies of the books I carried in with me.

"Ladies, please take a copy for our first reading assignment," I pause to glance at what book I had grabbed, crap, out of the corner of my eye I see a hand raise. I return to my podium to look at my seating plan, like I would for any other student.

"Miss Swan, you have a question?"

"Mr. Masen," she nearly sneers, the distaste barely hidden, "I believe most of us read The Scarlet Letter sophomore year, unless of course there was a reason you wanted us to reread it?" The last part practically spat out.

I look towards her, careful not to show my own ire and hoping like hell none of the other students caught the fire in Bee's tone.

"Yes, of course, thank you for bringing that to my attention, Isabella," I have to stop myself from sneering her name. "Well, then ladies, let's stay on point with the curriculum I have planned. Are there any questions?"

Class proceeds excruciatingly slowly, I'm asked what's expected from students over the course of the year, how I grade, if I had office hours available; I can only hope my eyes do not dart back to Bee – _Bella, _while I search her face for answers, searching hers for reassurance that my life and my family's life has not just gone down the rabbit hole of shit.

Finally the bell signals the end of classes for the day, either that or for the end of Round One. I stand there as I watch the women exit the room, Bee leaves with some of her classmates without paying me a moment's notice. I am in the process of gathering my belongings when Bee reenters the room. She goes to her desk to grab a pen and walks out but not before tossing a piece of paper nonchalantly on my desk. She does not utter a word or even look in my direction. I wait until the dismissal bell has rung before I unfurl the proffered note.

-_**I'll be over at 9:30.**_

I beat feet out of there. I had been asked to an after school tea held in the teacher's lounge, but I blow through the front doors and steer myself home. I tap out an email from my Blackberry to Sr. Cope with my apologies for not attending the tea, hoping that my earlier transgression is chalked up to being overwhelmed.

When I let myself into my apartment I have nearly pulled and rubbed the hair away from my head. I am beside myself with rage, fury, fear, discomfort and surprisingly, an ache of empty dwelling in my chest. I push all of this crap down and go to change and head down to the building's pool.

I launch myself into a butterfly stroke. I am relentless in my assault of the water, my chest driving my hips and legs further, my arms raising and lowering to propel me through the water. I lose count of the number of laps I swim, it doesn't matter. The exertion has not cleared my head and I wonder why the fuck I told her I needed to see her. So I can add more time on to my impending jail sentence?

I know nothing about this girl. And while I am tempted to berate myself of this fact, I have the wherewithal to stay focused and try to look at the circumstances with some rationality.

She was the one who approached me at the party and asked to leave with me. She did not turn me down when I gave her an opportunity to do so before entering my home. She was just as much a participant in this as I was; there was no duplicity on my end.

In the end does this matter? No.

What will come to light is a young teacher had an affair with a student. No one will examine the timeline and course of events. In the eye of public opinion I am the one who took advantage of the situation, leading a young woman, who, again, in public opinion, didn't know any better, into an inappropriate relationship. We didn't even call it a relationship. Fuck. It doesn't matter, any way it's looked at I will be disgusting and evil, a monster. At the age of 23, I will have to face the consequences of my actions, no matter how they came about, for the rest of my life.

Then the thought hits me, if I am convicted of sex crime I will forever have to register as a sex offender. My family will know this, my neighbors will know this. I will cost my adoptive family's generations of good standing in the community. I will cost my neighbors resale value and a good address. I will shame the memory of my parents. Nothing good can come out of this situation.

I stop swimming, my stroke becoming sloppy and tiring. I get out of the pool and return to my apartment.

I look at my watch sitting on the countertop and see it's close to 6:00. I should take a nap but know it will do nothing to stop my thoughts from racing. I'm not hungry, only an acidic pit is stirring in my stomach. Fuck.

Before I reach for a bottle of whiskey I stop myself. I walk into my room and change into some running clothes, tying up my shoes and head out to the lakefront path and take off. I run to 57th Street not seeing or feeling anything, forcing my mind to remain only focused on my footfalls. Once I reach my destination I turn immediately around and start to run the nearly six miles back.

"_Bee, what's your real name?" I ask._

"_What kind of question is that?" She's panting slightly as we run past Columbia Yacht club._

"_I don't know, I've never met anyone with just the name, Bee, before."_

"_I've never met an Edward before. At least not someone who hasn't fought in World War II," she teases._

"_Are you saying I'm old fashioned?" I tease back, turning and looking at her reddening cheeks._

"_Not in the least, I don't know too many WWII vets who know half of the moves you have."_

_The little minx._

"_And you've had your way with a lot of Vets?"_

"_Wouldn't you like to know," she looks at me and winks._

_Minx. Minx. Minx._

"_Come on, I'll race ya," and she takes off running toward Buckingham Fountain. It's sort of funny, her leg is all sorts of fucked up, I can tell when her foot falls become heavy that she's in pain and tiring. I normally try to get her just to slow down and walk the rest of the way, but she' s just stubborn, you tell her she should do something and she ignores the suggestion. It's difficult to decide if this pisses me off or if I find it cute. And I want to be embarrassed that I just referred to the girl I'm sleeping with as _cute_. Maybe I'm just not able to admit that there's something else there._

As I approach the tunnel to let me cross the Drive back to my building I reflect on that memory from this summer. Looking back it was so obvious how she deflected anything that was too probing; she was blatantly lying to me the entire time we spent together. I again start to berate myself for my stupidity but stop once I enter back into my apartment. This time I reach for the whiskey. I pour a nice highball with just a few ice cubes in it. I really want to pack a bowl but figure I can function better with only liquor dulling my senses.

In too short a time, I have downed my glass and return to the kitchen to find some real sustenance, as much as I would like to drink myself into a stupor I know the physical exertions of the past few hours have taken their toll plus, regardless how little I want to do it, I have to return to work tomorrow.

After some leftovers Esme sent home with me the other night, I go to clean up.

While standing under the showerhead I hope the water washes away my immoral deeds, but I hope in vain. I exit the shower with only my skin being clean and get dressed putting on a pair of shorts and a Big Chief Badlands t-shirt. I go to the bar refilling my whiskey and return to the living room to sit and wait for Bee's arrival. I don't bother to turn on any lights, the glow from the city being my only illumination.

A few minutes later my intercom rings, fuck she's early. I'm not ready to face this.

"Edward, why aren't you down here?" demands Alice. Crap, I was supposed to go out with her and Jasper tonight.

"Hey, Al, I'm sorry, I forgot, but I have to take a pass tonight, long day," I know I'm rude not inviting them up. And then I briefly consider going out with them and not facing Bee.

"Pull the panties out of your ass crack, we're coming up." I can just picture her stomping her bitty foot down in tiny little anger.

I sigh, "Just for a minute Alice, I'm serious, I have some shit to take care of and I'm not in the mood for company," I think she's already hung up before I finish my statement.

When there's a knock at the door I open it to see Alice and Jasper standing there with a giant basket filled with pens, pencils, notebooks, fruit roll ups and a bottle of whiskey with some Baccarat high ball glasses. Any other day I would have found the irony humorous, but today just makes me feel like a dirty deviant.

"Here, Esme sent this over for you, she said she hopes the pattern is the same as your barware to replace the ones Carlisle broke," Alice explains referencing the glasses. Jasper hands me the basket. I take it, continuing to stand in the entrance, trying to block their entry. I surreptitiously glance at my watch and see that it's ten minutes past nine.

"Thanks Ali, and I'll give Esme a call too," I go to give her a kiss on her cheek but she jerks away and takes a step back to look at me.

"Well," Alice huffs out.

"What?" I say like I'm thick like a $5 watch.

"What's with you, why won't you invite us in?"

I sigh again, "Yeah, come on in, I was just about to go to sleep though."

"You can't hang for a few minutes?" Alice pushes in.

"Hey man," Jasper says, briefly putting his hand on my shoulder.

"What's with her?" I ask so only Jasper can hear.

"I don't know, she's got some bee in her bonnet about seeing you tonight, she said you need to see us."

I flinch at the word, _bee_. Of course, Alice thinks she preternaturally in tune with the happenings of my life. While this may be the case I can't have it interfering with what's scheduled for 9:30 tonight.

"Edward, I just want to make sure you're okay. I have a bad feeling, no, that's not it exactly, I just have a feeling something's up with you. I mean we barely saw you this summer, and now you have some job that none of us believe you took, I just want to see what's up with you."

I walk over and take Alice's hand and walk her into the living room.

"Listen, Ali, you know Esme wanted me to do this, I couldn't let her down."

"I know, but this is my gap year, we were going to make fun of Jasper for still being in school and we were going to hang out and go to museums and amusement parks, visit two million bats in Texas, steal a Bob's Big Boy statue thing, tour a mustard factory. We were going to celebrate the last of our youth together," Alice laments about the past several years worth of planning, granted, mostly while we were high, but still, it was a vague idea of ours.

I laugh, "Alice, you know we don't have gap years here. Besides, you still have another year of school to finish."

"Yeah, I know," she's getting huffy, her tone changing, "but the fact of the matter is, you were going to be with me this year. And now you're not," Alice's whine is back.

I look to Jasper who is sitting there looking out the window, my thought is he's stoned, or at a loss what to do for Alice. Apparently I am wrong, though.

"Listen, sweetheart, we can still have fun," Jasper says, "you can still make fun of me for my sixth year of college, we know Papa Whitlock has a permanent sneer attached to his face because of it," Alice wipes her eyes and lets out a little chuckle, I hadn't realized she was crying. She leaves my side and crawls into Jasper's lap. "And doll, we can go to Texas to see those bats and drive downstate for the mustard factory. Now, I don't know about the Bob's Big Boy Heist, that might take us wrangling Prof Cullen over here as an accomplice," Jasper hitches his thumb in my direction, rubbing up and down Alice's back with his other hand, "but we'll have lots of fun this year."

I feel inadequate next to Jasper when it comes to Alice. She always flies too far out and he continually reels her back in. Jasper whispers something in her ear that I cannot hear and a few moments later they get up, he looks at me a gives me a single head nod. We exit my home and walk toward the elevator together.

The elevator dings and out walks Bee, she's dressed simply but has a baseball cap pulled down, I guess trying to hide her face, but anyone who knows her would recognize the flowing brown silkiness all around her shoulders. She doesn't stop or even acknowledge me and walks down the hallway in the opposite direction of my place. My heart feels like it's going to pound through my chest. Jasper looks at me briefly.

"Ali, we'll go to a matinee on Saturday, your choice, my treat," I bend over to give her a kiss on her temple.

"Okay, but let's call Esme too, she'll want to hear all about your first week of school for lost causes," Alice jokes.

"And somehow, they list you as a proud graduate."

Alice gives my face a teasing slap then wraps her arms around my waist; I don't know where this concern is coming from. If they only knew what was going on they would want to pitch me off of the 67th floor.

"Alright, Edward, I'll see you this weekend. I love you."

"I love you too, Alice," and she turns and gets on the elevator. Jasper gives me another head nod and I watch as the doors close.

I walk to my door and enter, leaning against it, waiting for Bee to come knocking.

I hear a small, single rap against the door, I use my shoulders to push away from it, I don't want to do this, and don't know why I requested to see her. I open it and step back for her to enter.

We walk toward the living room, I'm having a difficult time trying to marshal my thoughts, I don't know where to begin.

"Please, sit," I say stiffly, gesturing for her to sit on the couch. I turn on a small table lamp and go and sit in the chair nearby.

"Is this how it's going to be, like I'm talking to you about my latest essay?" Bee says quietly, looking out the windows, not meeting my gaze.

"Why did you lie to me?" I ask without emotion.

She turns to look at me, even in the softly lit room I feel her trenchant eyes, she returns to stare out at the night.

She sighs, "What could I do? I thought this was just a one night thing, I didn't expect it to be all summer, and by the time I realized I should tell you, it was too late," she looks at me again. "It was too late and I didn't want to lose you," she whispers.

"I told you my name when we first met, why didn't you stop at that point?" I ask.

Bee sighs, "I don't know, Chicago's a big city, maybe, I thought, Cullen was a common name. As I understand it, out of the past four mayors in this city two have had the same name."

I let out a humorless laugh, I don't know if she's trying to make a joke or not.

"I just figured you couldn't be related in any way, I mean, what are the chances?" she asks rhetorically.

"Apparently one to one," I reply snidely.

"Apparently."

"It still doesn't change the fact that you've put me in a horrible situation. If I'm convicted, I become a sex offender, I've ruined my family's life, my own life, shamed St. Jude's, the list goes on and on."

"I'm not underage, if that's what you're worried about," she says.

"What do you mean, you're not underage, you're a senior in high school," I state the obvious.

"My birthday's in a couple of weeks, I'll be turning 19."

"Nineteen?" by accounts being a senior in high school should be 17 or 18.

Bee sighs, "It was the rule when I started school in Forks, Washington, where I'm from, that if your child was born after September 1st you had to wait and enroll the child the following year. Renee, my mom, was beside herself by it, she threatened to move me back to Phoenix, but Charlie, my dad wasn't having it. Anyway, I was essentially a year older by the time I started kindergarten," she pauses letting this fact sink in before continuing. "And, you know how my leg is all messed up, right?" She looks at me for confirmation, I nod my head remembering that first morning together and the loud pop of her knee.

"Well, it was just before the start of my freshman year of high school in Forks. It was the accident, not only did I break those bones in my leg, but I broke my back too, I spent months in a rehab type place in a nearby town, Port Angeles, it was months before I could start physical therapy. Once I was able to be moved, Renee brought me to Chicago, where she had moved to with Phil Dwyer, her new husband." She looks at me to know I understood where the Dwyer name came from, I give her another nod.

"Renee moved me here figuring it would be an easier convalescence in a big city, more doctors and facilities, reasons like that. By the time I was able to start my freshman year I was almost 15. I didn't make a big deal about it, it's kind of embarrassing to be nearly two years older than your classmates, people just assume you've been left back in school."

I look at her, thankful that she's at least not underage, the fact that I've slept with a student is a whole other issue though.

"Bee," she cuts me off.

"Bella, just call me Bella, it will make it bad if you slip and call me something other than Isabella or Bella."

"Bella," I pause, "you've put so much in jeopardy for me," I try not to sound like I'm being selfish, we're both in jeopardy of losing so much.

"I'm sorry, after every night we spent together I told myself I had to tell you the truth, it was eating away at me, I just didn't want to lose you. That was me being selfish, I am sorry I didn't' tell you."

I hate seeing her beat herself up for this. It's obvious to us what a dilemma this is, what a horrible situation this has turned out to be.

"Why do you go by Masen?" she asks.

"Carlisle and Esme adopted me when I was about 10; I was Masen before I was a Cullen. I didn't think it would look proper to the other teachers, being 23 and having gotten this job partly because of Esme. This job wasn't anything I planned on doing."

"I see," she says thoughtfully. We sit there lost in our thoughts for some time.

"Edward," she says, "I can't give you up."

I now sigh. "Bella," it sounds foreign coming off of my tongue. "We don't have a choice, we can't continue."

"So what, that's it?" her voice becoming emotionless. That empty feeling in my chest returns. The tone of her voice is chilling to me.

"It has to be," I state. I don't say anything else, I know if I keep on I will rationalize this and continue to see her.

She gets up and walks to the windows, looking out over the lake.

"Is this what you want?" she asks, not turning towards me.

I think about this question. Is this what I want? No, I don't think it is, while we never called us a couple, we were for all intents and purposes. I find this surprising. I had invested _more_ into Bella than I had in any one else, outside of family. But I cannot think this way, this will get me into trouble. If the situation was different, if she had just lied about being 19 instead of older, or lied about her name, then maybe I could have excused that, but she's in high school and she's a student of mine, I cannot ignore that glaring fact. While it may not be the answer I want to give, it's the one I have to.

"Yes, this is what I want," I say and I hope Bella does not notice my lack on conviction.

She turns and looks at me, assessing my response. I don't know what she sees but I hope it's not the truth.

"I know you won't be able to quit me, Edward because I won't be able to quit you. Regardless of how much you think you want to, I know you don't. You're just like me, you need this. I don't know why this is, maybe we're like a drug to one another, maybe the high fills all of the need and want we have in our life. And I so wish this wasn't the case, because I don't want to live my life like this, live my life one day at a time so I can get over you. But since this is what you want, I will respect it, it's the only thing I can do." She walks over to me and runs her fingertips along my jaw line to my lips. Her touch radiating my skin. I look into her eyes and see the silent tears streaming down her cheeks and all I want to do is wipe them away, but I can't. I watch as she turns and walks out the door.

* * *

a/n Thanks for getting to the end of another chapter, for the imagery of Edward swimming the butterfly you can leave me a review. And not germane to this story in the least, but if you have any recipes using radishes, please pm me with them, I am just about to harvest my second batch and still haven't finished the first ones, there's only so many you can use in a salad. Hopefully next post will be quicker than this one. Also, on my profile I put a thing for the Chicago River on St. Pat's Day, along with the song, Breath You In, which I think goes with this chapter. It's another OM records release, but I swear, I'm not a shill for them, I just like the label.


	3. Chapter 3

Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer

My apologies for the slight delay in posting, work is kicking my ass halfway into next week.

Edward gets a little mopey during the start of this chapter, I hope you can bear with it.

As before, grammatical errors and incorrect verb tenses are all me, as are my run on sentences. And also, as before, the italicized sections are flashbacks.

There is some drug usage and adult situations in this chapter, don't read if that's not your thing.

* * *

Chapter Three

Flip, toss, flop, turn, scrunch up the pillow, kick off the duvet, lay diagonally, bunch up three pillows and put the softest one on top, turn up the air conditioning, pull up the duvet, flip on the stereo from the remote, try to find the perfect music to lull me into some sleep, turn off the stereo, turn on the T.V. on low volume and try to nod off to a rerun of The Andy Griffith Show, fuck, this show sucks, except for Floyd the barber, but then that makes me think about Nirvana and it makes me wonder why there was so much anger and angst in the '90's.

"_Hey, Bee, I have to tell you something," I say to her._

_Bee rolls over and looks at me with worry in her eyes._

"_You're a chatterbox when you sleep."_

"_What're you talking about?"_

"_I mean, cut the string, Chatty Cathy," I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her closer to me, she kicks me lightly in the shin._

"_Hey, what was that for?" I dramatically rub my leg. I know I'm being a shit._

"_Cut the string, chatterbox," she mockingly sneers at me._

"_Hasn't anyone ever told you that before?"_

"_Um, I guess my mom, I didn't realize I still did it."_

_I smile to myself, thinking maybe I'm the only guy she's spent so many nights with together. When she said my name last night, it woke me up, it took me a few minutes before I realized she was sleeping. I've been listening to her chatter since almost the first night we spent together, and she's been saying my name for the past couple of weeks. _

"_Yeah, it's kinda funny. You have entire conversations, moving your arms and hands around, turning your head like you're listening to what someone else is saying."_

_Bee sits up, a look of disbelief and embarrassment in her eyes. She runs her hand through her mussed hair, it kind of gets stuck half way through and she pulls it out._

"_What do I say?" she breathes out._

"_I don't know, stuff, I guess."_

_She swats my shoulder. "Fine, I won't tell you what you do when you sleep."_

_I lean back and look at her. For lack of a better word, she looks sexy. Her hair is like one of those swimsuit models from the 80's, all big-ish and tousled, but it's so soft and natural. Her eyes are like the underside of_ _giant horse chestnuts, I should call her buckeye Bee. And her lip, she's biting it not even realizing what she's doing, just drawing practically all of my attention to it. I am distracted by her seemingly unconscious seductive idiosyncrasies. _

"_You're just saying that so I tell you what you say when you're sleeping," I counter._

"_Yeah, probably," and she gets up, throwing on my white dress shirt on, leftover from an interview the day before, and walks to the kitchen, the French cuffs hanging several inches past where her hands stop. Fuck, that much sexy shouldn't exist in one woman. My cock's hardness is evident through the duvet. I feel like a bad teenager movie._

"_Bee, get back here, you can't look like that and walk away," I holler so she can here me._

"_I'm not coming back there until you tell me what I say," she says, sticking her head in the door._

_I growl. I'm so played._

"_Fine, I'll tell you what you say, but you have to tell me what I do," I add, it's the only way to save a little face, I say this loud enough so she can hear me. _

"_Fine," she says a moment later and crawls across my bed, she looks like a cougar stalking her prey, I'm a goner._

_Once she's settled back onto the bed, sitting with her back straight and her limbs cross legged I answer her._

"_You say, _Edward_, a lot," I don't share the context that she says it in, usually she asks me to pick up bacon from the store, or to watch out for wolves on the way to hunt, completely random or nonsensical comments._

_Her eyes briefly go wide._

"_I do not," she grabs a pillow from behind her, and again I'm swatted._

"_Hey, hey, hey now, you asked and I told you what you say, don't hurt the messenger. Spill, Chatty, what do I do?"_

_She waits until she knows I'm anxious. She runs her fingers through her hair, straightens the front of the shirt she's wearing, then she looks at me and gives me a sticky sweet smile. I'm terrified at what she's going to say. _

"_You always pull me to you or scooch over so you're spooning me or right up on me. The other night I had a little experiment. I spent the whole night moving around the bed seeing if this was indeed the case, if I was your true north," she has the graciousness to wink at this point. "It probably looked like one of those little stop action movies they show on Sesame Street; I move, you move, I shift, you shift, I roll over, you pull me closer," and when she's done telling me this the teasing is gone from her voice._

"_Yours is way more embarrassing," I tell her with a closed mouthed smile on my face then grab her in my arms and cover her face with kisses.  
_

I finally give up trying to get some sleep and kick off the duvet again and get out of bed. I walk into the library to the humidor on my desk and open it to pull out a wood bowl and some weed. It's crap weed, some dime-bag shit Jasper picked up one desperate night when all we could get in touch with was Jasper's local gangbanger dealer. I wonder how gangbangers always have the shittiest weed, like they go to some highway and pick all the wild growing marijuana and add extra seeds and stems. It takes talent to consistently have such crappy smoke.

After I've sat there silently cursing out our local commerce of cannabis, I pack the bowl and light it up, inhaling deeply and holding it in my lungs then letting out a long stream of smoke. I repeat this two more times, knowing the low quality of weed will be just enough to take the edge off of me tonight.

I know this is wrong, I have worked for a few hours in my new job, with our nation's youth no less, and here I am at 1:47 in the morning smoking some weed. How many more wrong things will I commit before the week is through?

It's too late to take an Ativan, but my brain is equal parts sluggish and unfocused to stop the replaying of the night's activities through my head like a movie preview. I stood there and let Bee cry and did nothing. I let her walk out, without even calling for her to get a cab home. I don't even know where she lives. I can't even call her Bee anymore.

Bella.

Bella.

Bella.

Bella.

Bella.

That's her name, Bella, it's not, Bee.

I am again Edward Masen, though previously, I was Edward Cullen, although, never shall the twain meet.

I need to stop feeling sorry for myself, this is ridiculous and serves no purpose.

I get up and walk to the living room and sit at my piano.

I wanted to move my piano into the library but Esme nixed the idea, she said it was far too beautiful an instrument and far too much an integral part of my life to be holed up in a room with musty law volumes and competing with burled wood. Now, sitting here looking out the window and the views of the lake and downtown, I have to wonder if she could be blind. The instrument taunts me tonight, these views taunt me and to sound trite, the silence is deafening.

I get up and open the bench to see what kind of sheet music is lurking in there. Rachmoninov? No fucking way, I would cut my way through the glass and plunge to my death if I played that tonight. Cole Porter? Only if Esme was throwing a cocktail party in 1934. Genesis? I need to keep Carlisle on a leash. Debussy? I'd rather drink battery acid. The Police? I'm gonna kick Jasper's ass. Steely Dan? One would think Carlisle, but Alice has a thing for _Deacon Blues_, I don't blame her, this fits the bill for my melancholy tonight.

As much as I like _Deacon Blues_, I play it infrequently, so I pull out the music and set it in front of me and begin to play. Halfway through, with the lyrics running through my head I become frustrated because I don't understand what they are trying to tell me, so rather than continuing, I stop. I sit for a while, looking out the window and my mind wanders. It's difficult to think about what I'm going to do in school tomorrow, much less the rest of the year. And it's not like after graduation I can call her up and start dating her, I'm certain even if there are not specific rules about that, there is a definite decorum I would be breaching. I let my fingers trail across the keys, leaving notes in their wake, from my trails I find myself working out something. It is sweet and sad, a cross between a dirge and a pop song, if that were possible, I'm not certain. I play out some more of it, working on a framework. I get up and grab some blank sheet music and a golf pencil and started to jot down what has poured from my fingertips and settled in my frontal lobe.

I spend however long sitting here, working out the empty that has harbored in my chest. I was in, what Carlisle would call, between a rock and a pile of shit.

Whatever, I need to man up and move on. _Bella_ is a teenager for shit's sake and I can't fuck up the fledgling career I have going. Okay, I know I don't need the paycheck so much, but I need some sort of purpose in life, duting college, teaching sounded like a good purpose in life. And, it wasn't like I had a difficult time finding women to waste my time with, women just happened for me, I should be able to move past this summer and Bella by this weekend. I'll see if Jasper is up for some drunken escapades Friday and Saturday nights, he owes me for all of the _Lolita_-_Don't Stand So Close To Me_ shit.

I get up from the bench and leave my music scrawls on top of the piano, it will give me something to refine tomorrow night. That, and I need Jasper to pick up some decent smoke, not the blue light special shit I have left. When I enter my room I grab my phone to text Jasper to remember to book a tee time at the club tomorrow, which is our code for picking up some weed, but when I look at the screen I see a missed text and I shouldn't open it because I know who it's from, but I cannot stop myself. So far I am not doing a very good job at one day at a time. I open the message.

**-Alone hogs the bed and doesn't scooch.**

As automatically as breathing I was about the text her back, then I stop myself. I can't be doing this. Ever again.

It's after 3:00 and I know I have to be up in a few hours anyway, plus she sent that message to me around 2:00, so I hope she's sleeping by now anyway. I crawl into bed, and fall into a fitful night's sleep. It wasn't until the morning, do I realize I am still holding my phone.

Ugh, I make myself sick. When did I become a premenstrual 12 year old girl clutching onto a Tiger Beat?

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, throwing my phone onto the nightstand then lean my elbows on my knees rub my hands through my hair.

I need to get in a rhythm, so I start by changing into some shorts and a t-shirt that says, _Elvis Is __**T**__aking __**C**__are of __**B**__usiness, __**TCB**__ Baby_, and slide on my running shoes heading to the kitchen to drink an orange juice then take off for a run of a few miles along the lakefront.

Running offers me the pleasure of the immediate. Counting my footfalls, measuring my distance, monitoring my breathing, it all happens simultaneously and I do not have to think about what my day will hold and how I will stop from wanting to look at Bella.

I am a teacher in a high school; I need to put this on replay in my brain. Students are off limits; would be another track I need to lay down in my mantra of self-determination.

I finish my run and shower and take my walk to work. The endorphins from my jog are not enough to give me the energy for the day, so I stop into the teacher's lounge to get some coffee and organize my class plans.

I'm sitting at the table with my laptop when Coach Clapp sits down. He was my high school gym teacher and I hadn't realized he was now here at St. Jude.

"Coach Clapp, how are you?"

"Edward," he says in his thick Irish brogue. I think the guy has been in Chicago since he was like three years old but still sounds like he just left the public house after enjoying a Guinness with his mates in County Limerick.

"I didn't realize you were here at St. Jude's these days," I observe. I'm afraid he's going to tell me to do some wind sprints for some sort of infraction.

"Ay, I had a heart attack five years back and this was a good solution, I can still teach within the Diocese and be active, but not have to deal with the pubescent hooligans that I had at St. Rita's. Girls are much easier, they don't smell. You get a class of freshman lads and it's like you're plowing a field of manure covered with rubbish on a 97 degree day. Filthy," Coach shook his head and I couldn't help but laugh. Coach Clapp looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and let out a guffaw of his own.

"Ah, Edward, I think you'll like it here," then he looked like he was debating on something, so I returned to looking at my laptop, a few moments later he started to speak again.

"Edward, would you be interested in helping me coach the Cross Country Team? We start practices next week, we're still doing sign up this week. It's usually just about 15 or 17 gals, we have a meet a week and practice two other days. I just need help keeping an eye on them and making sure they all get to the meets. Miss Tanner used to help until she, you know," Coach Clapp had his hands extended from his belly, moving them up and down to signify _Miss_ Tanner's bun in the oven. Miss Tanner was who I was teaching in her place this year. It was unclear if Miss Tanner became Mrs. Legitimately Married So the Child Is No Longer Out Of Wedlock, would she be invited back into the fold of St. Jude's.

I ran cross country for Coach Clapp when I was at St. Rita's. He was a fine enough coach, there's not too much to do coaching cross country, people who join, know how to run. But I figured it would be a good use of my time, and three afternoons a week might keep me focused in my newfound desire to remain occupied. I looked to Coach Clapp and he had a look of expectation with a tinge of pride on his face, I was a good runner in high school, I didn't get caught in too much tom foolery so in his eyes I was a _good lad_.

"Sure Coach, that would be something I'd really like to help you with," I gave him a genuine smile. I imagine in a school of all girls with only a small handful of males, he was happy to feel some camaraderie, I could understand that.

"Ay, Edward, my boy, looking forward to it, it'll be good craic!" I didn't know what he meant but figured it had nothing to do with drugs. He stood to leave clamping down on my shoulder.

"I'll see you later Coach."

I got up and started to walk to my classroom, again just focusing on the immediate. Fortunately, now, I also had the prospect of being an assistant coach to alleviate some of the filling void left in my chest.

I was leafing through a copy of the Iowa Review deciding how much modern fiction I wanted to bring into the second half of the school year for my senior class when I caught a snippet of conversation.

"…Gawd, that hair, it's sinful…" said the girl who waved her hand during attendance and in general seemed too eager, like she would ask for homework over Columbus Day weekend.

"Yeah, right, I mean, it's like he was made for tongue trails all over him. I mean, right, I can't even concentrate and we've only had one class with him…"

"What's with you Bella?...I wonder if I can transfer to Sr. Benita's class instead, I would probably do better looking at her hairy mole than staring at Mr. Masen's crotch all year…You're all quiet and stuff today, didn't you get an eyeful of Mr. Masen yesterday?" Eager hand raising girl yammered on and on.

I quietly spied the three girls. Bella had her phone out and was tapping in something. Handheld devices were against the rules unless used during lunch. I didn't picture Bella as a rule breaker. But then again, she has a fake ID, enjoys her share of illegal narcotics, indulges in double Ketel One rocks, and spent the summer fucking her future English teacher; maybe I need to stop thinking of her as honest and upstanding. And have girls always been so lewd? Tongue trails and crotch staring, I will definitely have to share this with Jasper.

Then she spoke, her voice hoarse and raspy from little sleep, slowly selecting each word and letting it seep from her mouth. "Mr. Masen," she paused, "Is our teacher, so I wouldn't delude yourself into thinking anything other than that. Besides, he probably already has some like, perfect girlfriend whom he adores, and we are but lowly high school students, even with our too short uniform skirts and knee socks."

It was at this point I realized I was less than six or so feet away from them, I slowed my pace and wondered when the hallways became endless. I continued to be pretending to be engrossed in my magazine. If I were smart I would have turned around or turned a corner, but my legs and brain were on a disconnect.

"Always the pragmatic Bella," I think the girl named Angela, remarked.

And Bella spoke again with more than a little deviousness tingeing her voice, "Or maybe ladies," she paused, looking at both girls, like making certain she was commanding her audience, "I've already fucked him," and all three girls turned the hallway and I could hear them laughing.

I touched my forehead and found it damp with sweat. Then I jumped because my phone started to vibrate in my pocket, I went into my empty classroom and pulled it out of my pocket.

-**You were lucky this time Cullen, eavesdroppers seldom hear anything good of themselves.**

I was nearly shaking. I couldn't be this careless, I needed to rein it in. Her caller ID still came up as Bee Dwyer, I could only hope she had two phones. I erased her messages, all of them, not like when they do the investigation the phone company couldn't pull that shit up, but for the interim I felt somewhat assuaged.

The rest of the day passed without incident. When Bella's class came in I passed out their e-readers explaining that all of their books for the first two quarters have already been downloaded. Most decidedly, the Scarlet Letter was not on the reading list or downloaded any where.

Our first novel is Joseph Heller's Catch-22, Bella looks at me discontentedly, the irony is not lost on either of us.

Need to stop looking at Bella.

I continue on explaining the e-readers and have the students sign agreements for use of them for the school year. It's kind of incongruous, for $20,000 a year in tuition, one would think the school wouldn't be so petty about electronics and say, volleyballs, but apparently that's not the case. I let the class start reading for the remainder of the period with a comment that we will be starting chapter discussions tomorrow. When the bell rings I sit and wait for the students to file out. Bella is lagging behind today. Once every one has left she approaches my desk and I am terrified. I cannot have any personal interaction with her.

"Yes, Miss Swan?" I try to sound like she is any other student.

"Mr. Masen, is it at all possible that I could be assigned another book for this assignment? I already read this, this summer."

"_Bee, come on, what're you doing in there?" I want to start watching the movie, Bee's never seen Fast Times At Ridgemont High, she looked at me like I had four and a half dicks when I called her Spicoli when she slipped on a pair of Vans and lit up a bowl before leaving one morning._

"_What the fuck is a spicoli?" she asked._

"_Not What, but Who," I replied._

_Bee sighed, "Okay, Edward, WHO the fuck is Spicoli?" She rolled her eyes at me._

"_Sean Penn in Fast Times at Ridgemont High, that's who the fuck Spicoli is."_

"_Thanks for the enlightenment, illuminating as always." I found her exasperation humorous._

_So the next day, I went out a bought a copy of the movie, and had planned a night of watching it with her. Bee had gone to her photo seminar class she was taking during the summer and when she arrived back to my place she asked if she could take a bath, she felt like she had chemicals polluting her skin from the darkroom chemistry. I walked to the master bath and lightly knocked._

"_Mmm," was all I heard, I slowly opened the door, and fuck, it was like innocence and Agent Provocateur all wrapped up in one. She had her hair piled on top of her head, loose strands and damp tendrils falling around her face, her hair held up by two yellow Dixon Ticonderoga pencils, she had a thing about those pencils. The tub was filled with lavender scented bubbles, and when her dark eyelashes opened up to reveal her big, brown, horse chestnut eyes, I was distracted and forgot why I went to find her, but glad I had._

"_Hey baby, I just wanted to see how much longer you were going to be," the power of speech vaguely returning, although my tongue felt thick when I stared at her delicate beauty._

"_Sorry, I was reading," her sudsy hands hold up a paperback for _One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest_. "Have you ever read this? Totally different than the movie. And yet, I like them both in an entirely different way." Her enthusiasm and freshness are always contagious._

_I walk over and sit on the edge of the tub and lean over and kiss the top of her head, avoiding the pink pencil erasers._

"_I'd say we should watch that tomorrow, but I have to be honest, I don't think I have it in me to get through that, it's too much to handle," I state and reach one hand in the water to find Bee's soft breast._

_Bee takes the piece of scrap paper used to mark her page, and closes the book, reaching behind her to set the book down. I lean down and begin to kiss her, removing my hand form her breast to use it to brace me against the far wall of the tub, I use my other hand to cup her face, Bee, winds her hands into my hair and makes those soft little throaty moans that my dick likes so much_

"_Edward, how do you always make me lose focus?" she whispers in my ear, then gives it a little lick for good measure._

"_Baby, I don't think you're the one losing focus. Come on, let's get you out of here," I pull my lips away from hers and reach over to grab a towel to wrap her up in. She stands up and all of the soap bubblse and water is sheeting off of her, her nipples standing erect, matching the eraser tops of her pencils, her breasts with that hot little curve up, like they were finished off by a pastry chef. _

_I help her out of the tub, she steps out with her toe pointing all dainty and girly. I hold my arms open with the towel and enfold her in it, tucking it into itself to secure it. She stands up on her tippy toes and puts her arms around my neck, I bend slightly and lift her up and she wraps her legs around my waist and I carry her to my bed, the movie all but forgotten._

"_Edward, what you do to me, it's not right. It's too right, it's so much," she breathes out while I kiss down the column of her neck, along her shoulders, down her upper arms and back over to her breasts. I take one nipple between my wetted fingers, rolling and pinching it while taking the other in my mouth for licks and little nips. Bee is so responsive; she starts to writhe around and arches her back up with the double attention. She moves her hands to the top of my head and runs her fingers through my hair, scratching my scalp alternated with soothing rubs. Pleasure and pain. The sensations are like a hand in glove. Somewhere along the way I let out a moan of my own._

"_Baby, I want to taste you tonight," I say against her skin, she arches up into me again._

"_Edward," she pants out, "I want you," I have pulled my kisses down the center of her torso to her belly button and kiss all around it, my tongue tasting the lavender bath water from the center._

_I lift one of her legs and place it over my shoulder, kissing the back and inside of her thigh. I open her other leg up and look at her aroused pussy and look up at her. _

"_Ugh, Edward, just looking at me like that will make me cum," I give her a half smile and watch and she begins to rub and knead her breasts._

_I tease her and start to kiss above her pubic bone and on her hip bones, she tries to snake her hand down to her clit, but I stop her by grabbing it at the wrist and turn to kiss her fingertips._

"_Greedy tonight?" I say and go down and lick up the inside of her other thigh. I slide one finger into her well lubricated hole and curl it up, trying to ring the bell._

_Unabashedly Bella pants, "Yes, I'm a greedy girl tonight," wait, what? What's this dynamic going on here? I look up at her and her head is tipped back, her hands furiously pinching her nipples on her arced chest. _

_Then all of a sudden she changes tact, her voice taking on a more authoritative tone. "Edward, lick my clit," and the way she pronounced the 'T' in clit, I thought my dick was going to chew through my fly just to get some space._

"_Is that what you want, baby, you want me to lick your clit?" I said the last part haltingly while I continued to finger her. After a couple more moments of her riding my finger, I pulled it out and bring it to her lips, she opens her mouth and tastes herself, sucking on her finger like she would my cock. Her eyelids were heavy and looked at me with a cross between demand and pleasure, neither of us yet getting what we were striving for._

_She took her hand and placed it around my wrist and pulled my finger out of her mouth and whispered, "Shoot the ball, Chief." Ken Kesey was fucking brilliant.  
_

"Mr. Masen?"

I wince, I was caught.

"Yes," I say distractedly, nervously, waiting for her to say something else, to give me a cue.

"Um, the book?" She looks at me expecting an answer.

I take a moment to gather an answer. I sigh.

"Isabella, I think you will find, going over this year's first half of the reading list, at least, that you might have read many of the titles listed," I look at her.

"Oh, is that so? Any others in particular?"

She's baiting me?

"Well, yes, for example, you'll see the next book on the list is, _One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest_, I believe you have also read that book?" I can't think of too many more dangerous conversations I could be having right now other than having this one.

"Well, to be truthful, Mr. Masen, I never finished that one," she brings her eyes up to meet mine, I can see the flush cover the v-neck view of her chest that her oxford shirt offers, spreading up to her neck.

"I can understand that, summertime and its activities can bring many distractions," I respond, so inappropriately. As much as I know I should stay away from Isabella, I am unmistakable drawn to her presence.

"Yes," she murmurs, bringing her long and slender hand to touch behind her ear and trail down her neck to the top of her clavicle. I am mesmerized by the movement.

"Summertime does have many distractions, many of them satisfying and worthwhile," she quietly comments just as lost in the movement and exchange as I was.

We stare at one another without saying anything for heartbeats, minutes, months; I am lost to her gaze. I notice the indigo stains underneath her eyes, I want to dip a pen in the color of the evidence of her poor sleep and write sonnets to her. She is the only woman I know where lack of sleep shows up as an achingly beautiful accent against the deep hue of her eyes.

"Hey," I hear someone ask loudly, and feel the footsteps approach the open door. "Bella, are you coming or what? We're going to be late for homeroom, if I get one more negative referral, I will have detention to serve by Friday, and I have to work," Jessica shrills her way into the classroom.

"So, Miss Swan, are we set? You will continue on with Catch-22 and will probably have a leg up on many of your classmates."

She raises her eyebrows to me, it goes unnoticed by Jessica. "Yes, thank you Mr. Masen, hopefully this will give me that _leg up_," and she turns to leave with the interrupting classmate.

What is wrong with me?

'~~

The last two days of the week pass without much interaction with Bella. My classes are going well, most students are excited about new curriculum, although Coach Clapp has made the comment that it probably has more to do with my being the new teacher than the subject matter, I hope the for the latter.

'~~

Saturday morning I get up and give Esme a call and make arrangements to catch a matinee movie for that afternoon.

"Edward, I think that would be good, Carlisle is farting away his day at the hospital again, so I would like to go out for a bit. I have to meet with a painter at 11:00, what time's the show start?"

"I figured we could go to the Music Box, there's a 2:10 showing of The Big Sleep."

"Ooh, I love the set design in that movie, good choice, why don't I just meet you there at about 2:00, inside the lobby, will that work?"

"It'll be perfect, I'll see you then."

I jumped a cab over there after lunch to meet up with her.

"Mr. Masen?" I here Bella's voice behind me while I wait for Esme, I turn around. I am amazed how easily she has slipped into calling me Mr. Masen, I have to think each time I say her name not to blurt out, Bee.

I look at her, and wonder if it would be so wrong to be with her? Her hair's piled up on her head held up by those yellow pencils with the green tips. She is in a plain, short, black skirt and a small, white t-shirt and a pair of sandals. I want to take her against the candy counter. I look closer at her and see her eyes are a little glassed over, her pupils somewhat dilated.

"Miss Swan," to any passerby it would seen like a formal enough exchange.

She looks at me, her high relaxing her enough that she doesn't want to worry about _us_, I couldn't blame her, if I hadn't been meeting Esme, I would have rolled up something to smoke.

"Well, enjoy the show," she turned and walked into the same movie Esme and I were going to watch. Sometimes the awkward situations proved to be too much. I mean how many people will be at a Saturday afternoon show when the weather is warm and sunny outside and the movie playing is over 60 years old?

"Hi Edward, sorry I was running late, you know artists and their delicate temperament," Esme mockingly said. She reached up to give me a kiss.

"Did you eat?"

"Oh yes, and enjoyed a glass of wine - or three, while I waited for that jackass to show up. I think I'll have some popcorn though, can I get you anything?"

"I got it," and I got her some water and buttered popcorn and led her into the theater.

Esme is a talker and chatted throughout the whole movie. I should have asked Alice to come with, she's always the perfect buffer for Esme's yakking, but it didn't matter too much today anyway, I was focused on the piled hair and pencils a few rows over and ahead of us. I watched as she scrunched down in the seat and put her feet up on the seat in front of her. And I watched as she popped the cinnamon red hots into her mouth and when she wrapped her lips around the straw of her soda. I didn't pay enough attention to the movie to even complain to Esme about her needing to zip her lip.

When the credits began to roll, I got up wanting to get out of the theater quickly, to do what, I wasn't certain, but I needed to be away from Bella. Not surprisingly, it didn't work out that way. Esme left to use the rest room while I was left standing in the hallway to wait for her.

"So, Mr. Masen," odd that her eyes were still a little soft and glassy. "Did you enjoy the young Lauren Bacall?" She was being more than a little inappropriate, I made every effort to avert my thoughts away from removing her pencil hair sticks and taking her in the projection booth.

My eyes raked her form and I licked my lips and let out a soft puff of air. What kind of power does this woman have on me?

"It's a good movie," I stumble out. "Is this the first time you've seen it?"

She looks at me with her fresh cream face, "Yes, it was my first time," pause, "seeing this movie."

Just then, Esme showed up.

"Esme," I practically clamp down on her shoulder, "I'd like you to meet one of my students, Miss Isabella Swan. Isabella, this is my mother, Esme Cullen."

Bella looks at her for a moment, and I am about to have my pounding heart claw through my chest.

"_I ignored the flashes I lightning all around me. They either had your number on them or they didn't_," Bella quotes.

We're all silent for a beat or two before Esme's eyes begin to twinkle. I let out too loud of a nervous laugh.

"You're a fan of Salinger?"

"His short stories mostly, I have always enjoyed that one."

"Yeah, me too," Esme replies.

We say a few more things, I don't know what really and then Esme and I leave to catch a cab. Once I drop her off and get back to my place I roll that joint I wish I would have rolled before the movie. I sit and watch the clouds and eventually move to my piano to continue to work on my popish dirge I was labeling as a lament. I enjoyed the notes as I watched the outside turn orange and pink and brown as the sun was setting.

I never called Jasper to make plans. Tonight it's just me and my weed and my piano.

It's not enough.

I get up and go to the kitchen to get some whiskey when I here my phone vibrating on the counter, I pick it up and look at the text.

**-I'm on my way up.**

**

* * *

**

**a/n** Esme is referring to J. D. Salinger's short story, _**For Esme - With Love and Squalor**_

For the toddler handful sized of people who have reviewed, favorited or alerted this story, thank you, it makes my week sparkle.

The indigo eyes was inspired by Eva Rice's, _**The Lost Art of Keeping Secrets**_, it's a few years old but it is such an awesomely, beautifully, sweet story, if you haven't read it, please do, I can't imagine you would be disappointed.

St. Rita's is a real high school in Chicago, there are zero similarities intended.

There's a few links for this chapter located on my profile, Deacon Blues being one of them, take an eyeball to it if so inclined.

No radish recipes, sadly, I'm on to peas and zucchini and lettuce and cucumbers and beets – not all at the same time though.

In the next few weeks I might post an outtake of Chapter One, Bella's side of the story, keep an eye out for it, or put me on an author alert if you want to know her thoughts and dreams and aspirations.

My dream and aspiration would be if you would hit the review button and leave me your thoughts, I write thank you notes.

I have a problem with my massive post scripts, if it bothers you, my apologies. Outside of that, have a lovely week.


	4. Chapter 4

Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer

Please bear in mind, while Edward is breaking the rules (and Bella is an equal participant in this little debacle,) Bella is nearly 19 years old. Just wanted to mention that again.

Verb tenses are still beyond me. Also, as before, the italicized section of the story is a flashback.

* * *

Chapter Four

I stand there stupid, letting the message sink in. _I'm on my way up._ A few small words with boatload worth of shit and apprehension wrapped up in desire and want. She can't come up here but there's little else I want right now than to just see her.

Okay, I'm lying to myself, I want far more than to just see her. I want to be inside of her, feel every inch of her skin, run my fingers through her hair, trace my fingertips down the contour of her ass, dipping my tongue into her, tasting her beautiful wetness.

My brain sort of runs in circles trying to process what I was going to do, Bella isn't coming over here to look out at the stars.

But why is she coming up here? To talk? I mean, that could be a possibility, I hadn't texted her back all week or touched her or called her, the only time I spoke with her was in the classroom or this afternoon at the movie theater. Whatever, I just have to roll with the flow.

I hear the knock on the door. For a brief moment I think I didn't really have to answer the door, it's not like she counted up 67 floors and saw that my lights were on and decided to drop in for a nightcap.

I stood in my foyer trying to figure out what to do. This was it. This moment changed everything. How I knew I should act and how I wanted to be were two entirely different things.

"_Edward, I'm bringing over a movie tomorrow night, I'm sick of stoner movies," Bee whined while molded next to me in bed._

"_What are you talking about, we barely watch any stoner movies," I countered._

"_Oh right, if I have to watch one more fucking Seth Rogan movie I swear, I'm gonna shit Zig Zags. I've watched the whole Friday series and here's a flash, after the first one, they sucked, you can't replace Chris Tucker and Bernie Mac, with, not them," okay, she's not even making a sensible argument. "And you know what, I realize you're trying to recapture your college years and watch Dazed and Confused, all the friggin' time, but guess what, you were like, not even a toddler when that shit came out, you're parents weren't even in high school in the '70's, so move on. And when it's not weed flicks, the French New Wave stuff," she was totally worked up at this point. She's gotten out of bed and was standing there in a white tank top and a pair of black panties. To watch her go off on a tangent like this, about movies, was entirely entertaining. I was thinking about a movie in my room every night just so I could get a tirade like this display._

"…_It's pompous," she finished her insult of my movie choices._

"_Hey, easy baby, don't get all balled up over this, you bring a movie tomorrow night, if we get around to watching it, it'll be 100% your choice. Come on, come back to bed, please?" She knew I was placating her, I wasn't going to argue over movies, it was pointless, and I knew I was pompous, Esme and Alice had been telling me that since always._

_She climbed into bed with me and fit into my side, kissing my neck sweetly, then she fell asleep. I had to laugh, she tuckered herself out._

_The next night she showed up with fucking _Dangerous Liaisons_._

"_Are you fucking kidding me with this?" I ask her, holding up the DVD. "Of all things, why did you bring this movie over?"_

"_Quit being a dick. Besides, you get to behold Uma Thurman's 18 year old luscious tits."_

"_Yeah, but why do you want to watch it?"_

_She looked at me. I had no idea what was going on in her head or why she would want to bring this movie over._

"_I just do," she paused, like she wanted to add something else. "I like John Malkovich. He was such an ass throughout most of the movie, and in his assholiness, he was so hot."_

"_That's sick."_

"_I know," and she was humorously ashamed by this._

"_Come on, where do you want to watch this, the media room or the bedroom?"_

_Bee rolled her eyes and replied, in a mocking tone, "Media room. I'm going to go change," and she left the room._

_Bee thought the term, Media Room_, _was ridiculous sounding, saying it wasn't like we were commanding the control center of a NASA space mission._

_I went to load the DVD player and pack a little bit of weed in a bowl and wait for Bee to return._

_When she walked in, fuck, how she could be this lethal combination of lace and leather was beyond my comprehension. It was the amalgamation of putting together a flower arrangement with a June Cleaver apron wrapped around her waist, to a tie you up and watch as you masturbated yourself while she stood there in leather boots and watched; that fucked my shit up every time. She awed me. And here she had done it again._

_Lately, Bee had taken to shopping at _Agent Provocateur_, which was just down the street from me, she didn't buy the weird string and stud looking getups, it was just the bra and panties that whispered sweetness then grabbed your dick and drove it towards home._

_There she stood with some sort of black bra with another of her white cotton tank tops and a pair of black bikinis that had little bits of blue lace on them, and her hair was piled up on top of her head again, pieces falling down around her face. I was never certain if she did this on purpose or she was just comfortable this way._

_I sucked in a lungful of air._

"_What, what's wrong," she was turning herself around trying to look at her ass and the rest of herself to see if there was something wrong with her outfit._

_I laughed lightly. She stopped and looked at me with a puzzled expression. Apparently she didn't try to look this way on purpose, which was both pleasing and alarming, in equal measures._

"_Do you have any idea what your little outfit changes do to me?" I sat there with a crooked little smirk on my face, I could feel it. And, I was hoping to divert her attention away from _Dangerous Liaisons_._

"_I'm not giving it up to you at this moment, and we're watching this damn movie," she had her hand on her hip._

"_By all means," I patted the place next to me on the couch and watched as she padded over and scooted herself into me. I put my arm around her and started the movie._

_And I watched, I really did, it wasn't horrible, but not the kind of movie I would yap about while I was at the gym or anything either. But when we got to the part in the movie where John Malkovich 'breaks up' with Michelle Pfeifer, holy fuck, that was some of the most brutal shit I have ever watched. 'It's beyond my control…It's beyond my control…It's beyond my control…" Bee's fingers were dug into my thigh throughout the entire scene, when it was over she let out a shudder._

_Suddenly, I felt her shift and she was straddling me, her arms wrapped around my neck and she was kissing underneath my jaw and up to my ear and snaking her hand up through my hair. _

_I put my hands on her hips, "What's with you, baby? Why so suddenly worked up?"_

"_I told you, I like John Malkovich's assholiness."_

"_You are sick."_

_She leaned in and whispered in my ear, "I can't help it, it's beyond my control," and licked the shell of my ear.  
_

I can't not open the door, I turn the handle and there she is, looking a little worse for wear, even from this afternoon.

"Can I come in?" she asks.

I don't say anything but step out of the way for her to enter. I still haven't figured out what I should do versus what I want to do.

"I hope you don't think I'm being stalkerish, I swear, I'm not. But then again, by my saying I'm not, only kinda makes me more so. I don't know, I haven't exactly been terribly clear headed these past few days," she sighs.

I sigh. "Bee," I begin.

"Bella."

"_B_ella," I pause, feeling my hand run through my hair. "We can't do this," I sound like a broken record, I've said it so many times to myself.

"God, don't you think I know this? But do you have any idea what it's like to look at you everyday and know I cannot touch you? Or just fucking talk to you. All because of nine stupid months too short. You would have met me at a party or club or whatever and I probably would have told you my real age but it wouldn't have mattered because what's the four years difference in our age? It's poof, it's nothing, you blink and four years has passed. All for nine Goddamned months when I will have graduated fucking high school. And, as much as this is killing me inside and how I have another ache residing in my chest," she stops herself at this point and tips her head up to look at the ceiling and doesn't speak for a couple of moments. I wonder if she's fighting off tears. "I don't want to live like this, but I know I have to, but all I really want to do now is sleep because I haven't been able to sleep since Monday night when I was here. And if I take anymore chemical substances I'll be paying a little trip to Northwestern Memorial and the fine staff on call," she laughs, it is entirely without humor and I find it chilling.

And then she kills me.

"You have no idea what I'm going through."

And I finally look at her directly and I see them. I see those silent tears streaming down her ashen cheeks. She sees me watching them fall and quickly wipes them away on her shoulder, not looking at me.

I walk over to her and take my thumbs and wipe each stream and I take her delicate hand and walk her to my bed and set her there and go and start the shower.

I don't say anything and go back and lead her into the bathroom and remove her shoes and undress her, then undress myself.

"Come on, baby," I take her shoulders and steer her into the shower with me.

I still have all of her favorite toiletries in there, I have spent the past four mornings staring at them and smelling them, the combination of these created bouquets all melding with my girl which make the natural scent of Bella.

And so I take her face cleanser and squirt out the foam and lather it up between my hands and reach down to wash Bella's face and neck. I wet her hair and lather the shampoo, rinse and add her conditioner. I squeeze the shower gel into her little poufy scrub thing and travel it over her body. I rinse her off head to toe and I can hear the soft hiccups starting and I still see the tears streaming down her face, the water from the shower not masking them.

At this moment this isn't about right and wrong, or teacher and student, it's about helping someone I care about. And I hope I'm doing the right thing and not hurting her more.

"And the worst part about all of this is, I can't tell anyone. I have to act like some fucking giggly girl who isn't swooning over the new English teacher like all of the other girls are. Edward, do you have any idea how many girls at St. Jude's want to fuck you? It's unbelievable, and I keep trying to joke around about it and say that you probably have some steady girlfriend and don't think twice about that place once you leave for the day and all this stuff that I hope is a lie. Because I don't stop thinking about you when I leave school. And I hate that I am so fucking weak and so fucking sad about this. This is totally counter to how we started things, and that's all I want to do, I want to go back to the warm, June night I pulled you away from the wall and started dancing with you. I want to go back to just being us."

She's silently crying again, I notice those indigo circles have darkened their shade and I feel the tenseness of her shoulders.

"Let's get some sleep," and I cross the line. I bend down and kiss next to each eye and travel my hands down the side of her body to her hips. It's not sexual, I'm trying to offer some comfort. Bella leans her cheek against my chest.

"We'll figure this out, I promise," and I kiss the top of her head. Everything we tried not to do for the past four days shatters into a pile of ash.

After I get her out of the shower and dry her off I pull out a t-shirt from my dresser, another one wrestled away from Carlisle that reads:

_I'm gonna kick tomorrow_

_I'm gonna kick tomorrow_

I put on a pair of pajama pants and take her into the bed pulling her back up against my chest and I wrap my arm around her. I lace my fingers through her and listen as she falls to sleep, I give her a kiss at her temple before falling into my own slumber.

* * *

a/n In case anyone isn't clear, Zig Zags are a brand of rolling papers. My thought is if you've managed to read this far, you probably already know this, but wanted to cover my bases either way.

A shorter chapter, cripes, I have to stop overloading on all the angst. I'm hoping after this chapter we'll have less mopey.

To the ferret paw sized amount of people who have read this, reviewed, alerted and stuff, thank you, makes me happy I'm not doing this solely for my own benefit.

A couple of links on my profile, if you are so inclined, the scene from Dangerous Liaisons, "It's beyond my control." Honestly, it kicks my ass every time. And in honor of Lollapalooza this weekend in Chicago, a link to the Jane's Addiction song, Jane Say's.

Please review, good, bad or ugly, your comments help ease the raging hangover I'm sporting today.


	5. Chapter 5

I'm sorry for the long delay in posting this chapter, I just didn't have a clear path on it. So, to the guppy fin sized amount of people reading this, have at it. Hopefully the flashback will be sweet enough to make up for the angst. As before, the flashback is italicized. I'm having some formatting issues with FF.n and my Mac, I think, I've tried to catch them and add page breaks and whatnot, but not certain how it will translate when it goes live.

Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. Incorrect verb tenses and grammatical errors are still mine.

* * *

Chapter Five

When I awoke Sunday, Bee was already gone. The only evidence that she was even there was the scent she left behind on the t-shirt she wore to bed.

* * *

"Edward, will you be able to start with practice this afternoon?"

"Sure thing, Coach, I'm looking forward to it."

"Now, son, did you bring your running gear? If it were St. Rita's I would just let the lads go, but running in the city, I worry about the girls, I would feel better if they would have some accompaniment."

"Oh, yeah, I can run with them, if that's what you want, I'll just hang back, I guess and keep an eye out, yeah?"

"Exactly. Sometimes," Coach Clapp cleared his throat, "the girls are given um, a difficult time, we need to make sure they're safe."

I looked at Coach and saw the concern in his eyes. He cared, like he would for his own daughters, that the students remained safe in his charge.

"Don't worry, sir, I'll keep an eye on things."

"Okay then, Edward, I will see you at 3:15 at the track, then we'll set our course."

I bid the coach goodbye and went about my day. By the time Senior AP English rolled around I was in full teacher mode. I presented the class with a short pop quiz, then spent the remainder of the class discussing the first half of the book. I primarily wanted to make certain the students were keeping up with the reading and at the same time, comprehending it. With _Catch – 22__,_ the multiple point of views proved an interesting mode of story telling.

Bella did not look at me the entire time, but she didn't really look at anyone else for that matter. She spent her time taking notes or occasionally looking out the window. I almost wondered if she were ill. She was a voracious reader, and I knew she always had opinions and ideas about what she read, but during class, she looked almost, disinterested. I wondered if she regretted coming over on Saturday night.

Outside of Bella, I was finding being a high school teacher tedious. I enjoyed engaging and letting the women take off with their own thoughts and takes and philosophies for whichever book being read, but the constraints of the grading system and rules to follow in regards to tests and class structure seemed restricting.

When class time came to a close, I dismissed the students and followed them walking out, anxious to get ready to help Coach Clapp.

"…What happened Saturday, Bella, I thought you were going to give me a ride home? I got into so much trouble missing curfew…"

"…Sorry, Rose was supposed to find you, I had to…"

"…No, she didn't…"

"…You shoulda called me, I had my phone…"

"…You must've turned it off…"

"…I can call your mom and explain, it was totally my fault…"

"…Why'd you leave…"

"…Christ, Jess, get off my ass, I told you I was sorry…"

I watched as Isabella turned and walked away from her two classmates.

"…Gawd, what's her problem…"

"…She's probably slutting around with yet another mystery man. If only Rachel and Rebecca knew about her. Whatever, you know how she is…"

"…Yeah, I do - kind of a bitch…"

High school girls were ruthless.

Wait…

_A__nother_ mystery man?

What the fuck?

There were multiple mystery men?

I'm a trend?

I went and got changed for cross country and met Coach Clapp outside by the track. I was still gnawing on what Bella's classmates had said.

When I went to meet Coach in the courtyard, I took in the sights. The outside was an anomaly to the surrounding downtown streets; there was a small orchard, and vegetable garden, the track was pea gravel and there was an overgrown tennis court, all encased by an eight foot high brick wall. I now knew why The Secret Garden, was one of Esme's most favorite books.

I was off to the side, stretching before the students made their way down. By 3:15 there were maybe a dozen and a half students surrounding Coach and myself.

"Ladies, thank you for another year joining cross country. As you know, I do not like to have tryouts, if you want to run 3+ miles, then I'm here to help," Coach Clapp bounced with excitement. "Those of you who ran with me last year," I saw that Jessica girl and the Lauren girl whisper something to each other, "will know the course I like to run for practice. As you will be crossing some busy streets please have your wits about you and I have asked Coach Cullen-," fuck.

"Uh, sir, it's Masen," well, I had a week of cover.

"Aye, yes, apologies my boy, Mr. Masen here, to take the place of Miss Tanner and keep an eye out for you while running, he will bring up the rear."

I looked up and saw Jessica and Lauren whisper something again to one another. I didn't like it.

Then Bella came stumbling in looking flushed, too flushed, maybe. Jessica and Lauren fixed stony stares at Bella. Bella did not seem to notice.

"Uh, sorry Coach," was all she offered.

"Miss Swan, please remember, you are part of a team, and I expect you, and every other member of this team," Coach looked around at the other runners, "to respect that honor."

"I'm sorry, sir," Bella offered in contrition, Coach nodded his head to her.

"As I was sayin'…" it was at this point I sort of tuned Coach out, he was explaining the route, which he had already gone over with me. I looked around at the students present, several of them were from the Senior AP class of mine; Jessica and Lauren, Rosalie Hale, and of course Bella, because life couldn't have any respite. My chance to have a few days a week to be distracted by running had to, instead, include Bella in its activities.

"Um, sir," Bella had raised her hand, looking at the coach. "Same route as last year?"

Coach sighed, frustrated by having to repeat himself, "Yes, Miss Swan, as I mentioned before you joined us, Mr. Masen will be running in the rear in case anyone needs help, and if anyone needs a copy of the practice route, I have one here." I again let the coach trail off, tuning him out and stealing a glance at Bella.

She looked worn but yet, a little twitchy. She focused her attentions on the ground, moving her pointed foot in front of her, back and forth in the dirt, she used her middle finger to rub away at her thumb.

Coach finished his instructions and had the runners stretch before beginning the course laid out for us. After many minutes, the group, including myself, were led to the heavy cedar gate to release us into the wilds of the city streets. Just as I was about to start my patrol in the safety of the young women of St. Jude's, I felt Clapp's hand on my shoulder.

"Hey, Mr. Masen, nice shirt," Lauren said before exiting the courtyard, I heard Jessica's laugh as they ran away.

I looked down to see what shirt I was wearing and groaned to myself, my shirt said, "_I Got Lanced at Medieval Times_." I needed to pay better attention to my clothing decisions.

"Edward," he said in his brogue, accenting the 'E' like it were a long note to be held. "Do you have your phone?" I nodded a yes. "Here's my number, if something happens to one of the girls, please call me so I can get help. Also, keep an eye on the Swan girl, she's a terrible runner, tires out quickly, she's had some injuries which hinders her abilities and she gets in a lot of pain but doesn't ever stop to take care of herself." I just nodded my head, a little curious at Coach's singling her out. As he walked away to prepare for the student's return I heard him mutter, _poor lass_.

It would seem, Bella casts many in her thrall.

* * *

"_Bee, you want to go to a baseball game this week? Carlisle has drug company seats and offered them to me, they're playing the Phillies, should be a good game."_

_I look up from my book as Bee has walked into the living room, her expression is briefly filled with something I am unfamiliar with but it is quickly wiped away and returned is her normal calmness._

"_Not unless I had an unlimited supply of Old Style and Tinker to Evers to Chance were there turning double plays all afternoon," she replied, flatly._

"_What did you say, babe?" I was surprised at the reference._

_Bee walked over and sat down with her legs folded underneath her. She was facing my side and was proceeding to bring her fingertip slowly, up and down my neck._

"_Mmm, unlimited supply of Old Style," she breathed into my ear, then licked the curve of it._

"_Uh," fuck, the littlest things always felt so good when she was doing them to me, "no, the other thing."_

"_Was it," she paused here while her hand made its way down my side and reached underneath my shirt and went back up underneath it, starting to make fingertip circles around my nipples. "Double plays?" again, she breathed into my ear. What this woman did to my dick without even touching it was insane._

"_No, the other thing," I choked out._

"_I don't know what you're talking about," and when she breathes this into my ear she started trailing light kisses and little tongue licks down my neck._

"_You're a little tease," I say hoping she will continue to assault my neck with her mouth. I have become greedy like this. "I'm curious that you know anything about Tinker to Evers to Chance?" And after I say this she stops with my neck and leans back on her legs. I miss her touches. _

"These are the saddest of possible words:

'Tinker to Evers to Chance.'

Trio of bear Cubs and fleeter than birds,

Tinker to Evers to Chance.

Thoughtlessly pricking our gonfalon bubble

Making a Giant hit into a double –

Words that are heavy with nothing but trouble:

'Tinkers to Evers to Chance.'"

_She finishes the poem and looks at me with a self satisfied smirk on her face._

"_I know lots of things."_

_I sit there looking stupid, my mouth probably hanging open at her recitation. I leaned over to start kissing her when she spoke._

"_Edward, I don't want to go to a game this week, I loath the Cubs. Even if it included the possibility of an unlimited supply of Old Style to numb the pain of having to watch them lose in the most spectacular of fashion."_

"_Gosh, Bee, I wish I knew how you really felt," I reply to her with obvious sarcasm._

_Ignoring it, she proceeded, "I have a better idea."_

_I raised my eyebrow, thinking of several better ideas that we could do and not have to leave the couch to do them._

_Knowing what I was thinking she playfully shoved my shoulder. "You always think that's a better idea, but focus here, Cullen. Can I pick you up tomorrow night and take you to a special dinner? Like a date, I guess?" She asked, with her own brand of subtle sarcasm._

"_Since we've already had sex, what are your intentions after we finish dinner? Will you walk me back to my place and hope for a good night kiss? Maybe even be invited in for a coffee or drink? I'm not exactly certain why we have to spend a couple of hours out when all that we want can be done here," I gesture to the surrounding apartment._

"_Your uncanny ability to ruin any type of moment is truly astounding. Forget it, I'll take myself out on a date, you can hang out in Le Palace du Assholliness, where you have all that you can want, here," she too gestured around, but with a bite to it._

"_No, come on, I want you to spend the night having you try to feel me up and get into my pants, it'll be fun."_

"_Fine, I'll pick you up at 5:30, you'll have to meet me downstairs, and I'm not really into meeting parents," she teased. I wondered if Bee would ever take me to meet her parents, then figured, no, based simply on the fact that if her father would ever find out a fraction of the ways we had physically pleased one another he would probably kill me bare handed, then lock Bee up with a chastity belt. I mentally shook my head to wipe the thought from my mind._

_The next day Bee called me saying she was downstairs in a white car waiting for me. Funny, we had never driven any where together, always opting to either take a cab or walk, or jump public transportation._

_When I got downstairs I spotted her immediately. There she was sitting in a 1970's white Cadillac Eldorado convertible. With blood red interior. With the top down. And her arm perched atop her rolled down window and her other hand, with her beautiful fingers, lightly gripping the steering wheel. And her hair down. Wearing a sleeveless white top that was slightly see through. With a red bra on underneath. The bra matched the car's interior leather. _

_I think I stood there having to adjust my dick a couple of times._

"_Get in, and shut your mouth, you're catching flies," and she leaned over and unlocked my door giving me a devilish smile._

_I opened it and slid in the front seat next to Bee. I looked at her incredulously. _

"_Cripes, what the fuck is this, a Martin Scorsese movie?" I was running my hands over the dashboard and the seats._

"_Buckle up, Cullen, we're going on a ride."_

_We pulled away and headed down Michigan Avenue, I kind of wished I was the one driving such a choice car, but one look at Bee behind that wheel was so utterly provocative that I was completely satisfied watching her control the vehicle. She was a driver with confidence._

"_Babe, do you have any idea how fucking luscious you look behind the wheel of this car? Why have you been keeping this from me all summer?" I reached over and started to run my hand up and down her thigh. To complete her outfit, she had on a short denim skirt, it was all beat to shit, the innocent top and the naughty skirt._

"_We've never had a need to drive together any where. I live close enough to you that I can just jump a bus or the El to your place, why put my baby through city driving, she's too special to not be treated well." Bee cracked me up, her pragmatism protecting her 5,000 pound baby winning out over cruising around and showing it off._

"_Yeah, but think about adding this beautiful beast on our increasing list of inappropriate places to have sex, the back of a cherry Caddy, seriously, it' every American guy's fantasy. And the fact that's it's my girl's car, it just keeps getting better and better. Quick babe, pull off, I gotta rub one out."_

"_Oh my ga– seriously Edward, act your age, not your shoe size."_

"_You just quoted Prince to me?" I looked at her, totally smirking at calling her out._

"_It's the power of the Cadillac cassette deck," she glanced over to me and I could tell she was ready to go off on a tirade. I settled in, these were far too entertaining to not enjoy. She proceeded to reach down and grab an open shoe box filled with cassette tapes, plopping it on the seat bench between us._

"_Do you know how many Whitesnake albums there are? I'll tell you, too many, that's how many. And Huey Lewis and the News, seriously, I too, want a new drug after listening to that shit. And as for my Prince quote, that's the result of Phil, who can't even be cool enough to have __Purple Rain__, oh no, the best he has is __Parade__, I mean really, what is wrong with someone like that? Watch your arm, I'm putting up the windows. And to make matters worse, he has a cassingle, yes, you heard me, a cassingle of Tom Jones covering _Kiss_. I mean, I feel so betrayed that I have become __utterly spoiled by my dependence on technology," she whined, tuckered out by her lamenting rant._

_I looked around and noticed we were on the entrance ramp for the expressway. "Babe, you gonna tell me where we're going?"_

"_Nope," she said, popping the 'p'._

_I sat in the passenger seat looking out the window and listening to __Tattoo You__. Finally, after almost an hour in the car with the scenery becoming more spread out but developed with promises of outlet malls, I had to ask. "Bee, are we going to Wisconsin for dinner? I know you have a thing for supper clubs and all, but I feel like I should have packed an overnight bag."_

"_Put your package back in your pantyhose, we're getting off here," and she exits somewhere in the wilds of the Western suburbs, and almost immediately pulls into the parking lot of a castle._

_I looked around wondering if we were actually going to fuck in the back of her car in this giant parking lot but when I saw her getting out of the car I realized we were going into the castle._

_I was shocked when I realized where we were. "You fucking brought me to Medieval Times for our date?" I asked with no small amount of incredulity._

"_Yeah, dinner and a show, what could be more perfect than that for a date?" she replied, but I could tell she was proud of herself for the irony of it. We had spent the summer, thus far, being total urbanites. Running along the lakefront path in the morning, going to North Avenue Beach, walking the stacks at the Harold Washington Library, ogling the Tiffany Dome at the Cultural Center, checking out the observation deck of the John Hancock Building, hanging at dank, neighborhood bars, dancing in nightclubs; all these things that we only had to walk out our door to enjoy, but here we were standing in the parking lot of some cheesy chain restaurant getting ready to watch jousting and eating with our hands._

"_Listen, Edward, you are such a city snob, in your glass and ivory tower, perched high above the city looking down on all the wretched plebeians, let's have some fun, see what families do, watch a knight dressed in chainmail on a horse's back, do something silly, we don't have to be hip all the time," she told me._

"_I don't live in an ivory tower or think of others as wretched plebeians, that was unnecessarily harsh."_

"_I know, I was just trying to make a point."_

_She took my arm and led me inside. There was a ring with stadium seating, the place was filling up with families and high school kids and grandparents, we were sort of unique. The waitress brought us pewter plates filled with our fare, Bee donned a princess cone hat thing, and I wondered where she got it. The whole thing was ridiculous. She cheered for the green knight, I did not. The event was so over the top ridiculous that I laughed at her enjoyment of it all. It was a complete non sequitur to everything we had done previously. After the joust had concluded, and we had watched the horse show of tricks, we walked out hand in hand while being bid fare-thee-well by the king and his court. I kind of got pissed when Prince Tristan kept trying to talk to Bee. I wanted to tell him to find his Isolde and quit eying my Bee. Asshole._

_When we got out to the parking lot I asked if I could drive back to the city._

"_No, Edward, I'm not done with our evening yet, unless of course you have to get home because Carlisle and Esme will be waiting up for you? Do you have an early meeting you need to get to? A wife and kids I'm having you cheat on?"_

"_No, but why can't you tell me where we're going and let me drive?" I think I might have whined a bit._

"_Good grief, maybe I'll let you drive it later," and with that she started the car, but left the top up, she rolled down the windows and got back to the highway and started driving, but when we got to the junction she went north instead of south, back to the city. I kept my mouth shut and let her go on with her plans, my hand found her thigh again and started stroking the soft, pale skin. We exited and turned back and made a circle._

"_What's up babe?"_

"_You know, I never understand how things are named around here, why are the Skokie Lagoons not in Skokie? How can you be driving on a street that suddenly turns to being a one way? Why are there like no diagonal streets in Chicago? There are endless mysteries to the Chicagoland area. In Forks, there's rain, wet highways and moss. Not too much uncertainty."_

_By the end of this mini observational rant we were heading along Forestway Drive, I had been along here several times with Esme who often went to the Botanic Gardens, she liked the scenic route before heading back in with traffic. _

_Driving at this time of night, with just a sliver of daylight left, was infinitely calming. Bee had pulled over and put the roof down, I sat with my head back gazing up at the sky while Bee took her time driving along. She had the quiet musings of _Sade_ playing on the cassette deck, I knew I wished for endless nights like this, well, this, minus Medieval Times._

_Bee pulled off the road onto a gravel patch and shut off the engine just leaving the music playing. She moved over to me and fit into my side, wrapping her hand with my, resting on my thigh and leaning back with me. We stayed like this until the stars revealed themselves._

"_Babe, why'd you take me to that castle?" I asked then asked another question. "Do you really think I'm a snob?"_

"_No, I don't," she paused before speaking again. "I saw you, a few weeks ago. I was walking down the street and you were ahead of me. You were walking behind a woman who had her lunch bag, she most likely had tried to steal away from work for a few minutes to enjoy her lunch outside, hoping to catch a few rays of sun and breath in some non recycled air. She probably felt happy just to be outside, have a few minutes to herself, think about something that wasn't what someone else wanted her to do. In the middle of the busy lunchtime shuffle, briskly walking to her secret hideaway, her brownbag broke, spilling the contents of the sack out, her poor tuna salad to the ground, the waxed paper having given way on __its__ descent down. Splat, right there, her dreams of lunch__,__ squashed, left only with the hope of possibly running to a McDonalds to get a value meal __or some__ crap. People were bobbing and weaving around her, and no one stopped to help her, everyone just ignored her and kept walking. But you stopped, the apple having rolled out, halting at your feet. You bent down, picked it up and rubbed it against your shirt and presented it to her, and I swear, you were saying, '_Good as new_!' I saw the way she looked at you, and you were holding the apple to her like she was a princess. I turned the corner and fucking cried. Can you believe that shit? I cried because you did a simple, honest act of kindness for this stranger, and she looked at you like you were gifting her this piece of fruit like she was the most important creature on earth at that very moment. I cried because you just did it, like it was something that required not even a thought to do it. It was one of the most beautiful moments I've ever seen."_

_When I looked over at her she turned her face into my sleeve, when she turned back she wiped her eyes._

_I didn't say anything for a while, just continued staring up at the night sky, with my arm around her shoulder and stroking her bare skin. _

_We stayed quiet, lost in our thoughts and the contact between us. It was just, nice. Quiet, calm, content._

"_Babe?"_

"_Yes, Edward?" she replied softly._

"_This is one of those moments I wish could go on and on, that I could have again and again."_

"_Yeah, me too."_

_And she let me drive back._

_

* * *

_

Bella and I didn't speak once I had caught up with her, just the thudding sound of our footfalls speaking volumes between us. The other students had already moved a block ahead of us. I debated whether I should go and run with them to make sure they were set before going back to run with Bella.

"I'm going to run ahead with the others for a few, but I'll be back to join you," I stated.

"You don't need to babysit me, do what you want," Bella replied without malice or warmth, obviously aware of Coach Clapp's concern for her.

I started to say something in response but stopped myself. Instead I left to catch up with the other runners.

"Are all of you doing okay, any troubles," I asked the group.

"We're just fine Mr. Masen, you can go back and hang with our mascot, Bella," Lauren said derisively.

"Put the bitchiness in your pocket, Lauren," Rosalie said, without much confidence.

"I don't know why you always stick up for her, she's such a loser," Lauren replied.

"Don't push me Lauren," Rosalie warned with much more conviction than before.

"What're you going to do, complain to Daddy about it?" Lauren shot back.

"Ladies, all of you, enough," and before I continued on, Rosalie stuck her elbow out and shoved Lauren out of the pack.

Lauren came back, trying to grab Rosalie.

"Enough!" I shouted. "Miss Hale, Miss Mallory, see me after practice!" I nearly yelled. I never knew how horrible high school girls could be to one another. I continued running with the pack until Rosalie, using her long, muscular legs, pulled away from the other runners and effectively removed herself from the group. I didn't want any part of this power struggle, yet I found myself in the middle, and apparently some sort of cause of it.

"I trust you all can be good stewards of the St. Jude's reputation and continue on without any other incidents?"

The women replied as a group, droning a yes. I wondered if this sort of thing went on often.

I continued to run with them for several more minutes, but anxious to return to running with Bella, while we were completely incompatible together as athletes, I enjoyed running with her, the ease and contentment kept me focused and steady.

I finally dropped back and slowed enough that Bella would catch up to me shortly. When she did, she still had a blank look on her face. We didn't speak for a while, again just letting our steps fill up the affecting distance between us.

"What was the dust up over?" Bella asked quietly, her breathing becoming somewhat labored.

"Oh, I don't know, competition I guess," I tried to evade answering the question directly.

"Lauren hates me, no doubt Rose said some shit to her."

"Uh, you could say that, I guess, I'm thinking about giving them each a detention, it would be the first ones I've issued," I tried to make light of the event.

"Rose'll flip, she's prided herself for never having one. Lauren, on the other hand is there at least once a week. Stupid cunt."

"Miss Swan, language, please," I chided. Bella actually turned to look at me with a small smile.

"Sorry, she's just really a ball of bitchy trouble, total heart of darkness in that girl. Rose tries to fight my battles on that front."

She looked down, watching her feet.

"Why'd you leave on Sunday?"

"I should have never been there, I finally realized that."

"I didn't mind that you were there."

"You should have. I went there and unloaded an emotional pile of horribleness right there in your foyer, that was wrong."

I thought about what she said and kept running along side of her.

"Edward, did you ever see The Royal Tenenbaums?"

"Yeah."

"Well, here's the thing, in that movie, the whole family and friends go along knowing that's something's wrong with themselves and one another, but just keep moving forward, filling their lives with vices and emotional crutches. It's not until everything just goes to utter and complete shit do they start to figure it out, and that's when they all find their natural mates, romantic or familial or companion, even if it's not what it should be, like Margot and Richie, for example. They all just knew it was who they should be with and the person they should take care of."

I thought about what she was saying to me, a little panicked where she was going with this. "What are you trying to say?"

"Honestly?"

"Please."

"I don't think we've reached utter and complete shit proportions, yet. I just want to hold off so I don't fuck everything up for you in life, or for your family. You have far, far more to lose than I, and I cannot be responsible for it."

"Do you know what I thought when I woke up Sunday morning and you weren't there?"

"No."

"I realized that I felt incomplete. All corniness aside, you make things right when I'm around you, I never knew there was something missing until you weren't around to fill it."

"Please, don't say that."

"It's true."

"Regardless, at this time, I'm not right for you. There's nothing more I would like than to have you following me around the bed each night, tucking me into the side of you, waking up and seeing your beautiful face and having you make me those kickass omelets, but now's not the right time."

"I know you're right, but it's not what I want."

"You shouldn't be hindered by me. Even now, look at the way you're running, holding back for the sake of me. I'm not good for you."

"That's not for you to determine."

"Okay then, you're not the one for me. Is that what I should say to end this?"

"So that's what you're saying, you want to end this?"

"Not really, but we need to. You should go back to dating the likes of Crest White Strip girl or whoever else there was before I stung my way into your life," and when she said this I thought I heard the hint of cracking in her voice.

I didn't say anything, seeing the start of the returning students across the street, making their way back to school, I didn't need to raise any type of suspicions about us having a heated discussion. Watching them, I waited until they all had passed.

"So you've compared our lives to some movie and decided all of this? That's rich Isabella, really rich."

"Don't get indignant, it doesn't suit you," she stated, flatly.

"You're right. But what happens when you decide want to come back to me? I'm supposed to drop everything and try this again?" I said this with too much anger. In so many words, I had just declared a strong emotional bond to this woman next to me and she's told me, No.

"I guess I don't understand why you're angry. You can go back to an uncomplicated life, not having to try and sneak around to cobble something together with a high school student. Haven't you asked yourself why you want to try and do this? Couldn't it just be the fact that we're not supposed to it makes it kinda exciting? What if this is something we put off until next summer, and keep building it up and building it up, but when we finally get what we think we want, it doesn't live up to the expectation? If we just stop now, and go about our lives, dating and living our own path, if the opportunity presents itself and we decide we want to try again next year, then at least we haven't wasted a year of our lives in the interim. You're a smart, young, handsome and talented man, why should some almost 19 year old girl be your complication? Have your fun, your life, without some type of possible wrath lurking behind every corner."

We rounded the corner of our route and were heading back from whence we came.

I was brooding and silent. I wondered how she was so smart, how she was able to look at a situation from so many angles and come up with the proper thing to do. Finally, I spoke.

"So, you're going to do the same thing? Date and go your own path?"

She thought about her answer before saying anything. "I can't say. If I thought it would be easier, I might. I don't really know." She continued to consider her words. "I hope you realize that I think what I'm doing is the best for both of us, I'm doing it because I want what's best for you. It would kill me, absolutely annihilate me if I did anything to hurt you, to cause you any problems. That's the purpose of my intent."

Her footfalls were heavy, slapping down on the sidewalk with every stride. I knew she was in pain.

"Are you taking something? For the pain?" I wondered if Bella would ever recover from the car accident she had been in.

"You don't have to worry about me, I can take care of myself."

"Don't be cold, think that I'm asking you as your coach."

"Yes, I always take something for the pain, it's constant."

"I'm sorry."

"It's the way life is."

* * *

Old Style is a beer that's served at Cub games, Chicago has kind of adopted it as their own, although it's owned by the Pabst Brewing Company. Outside of Wrigley Field, it's a miserable beer, inside, it's the most delicious thing on a hot, summer day.

(You don't have to read this part if baseball totally bores you, or if you simply don't want to.) Tinker, Evers, and Chance, played 100 or so years ago for the Cubs, and have entered the Baseball Hall of Fame for their turning of double plays (getting two outs in one at bat.) The poem, Bee / Bella recited is called, "Baseball's Sad Lexicon," by Franklin Adams, as best as I could research, it is part of public domain, it appeared in the New York Evening Mail newspaper. The poem refers to a game between the Cubs and the NY Giants, way back before any of us were born, gonfalon refers to the Giants trying to win the National League Pennant.

Links to music videos of Prince and Tom Jones's cover of Kiss, the Tom Jones version is priceless!

Thank you again for reading this, and thanks to Lotusblomsten, who has been a faithful reviewer, poor creature could whistle, I Walk Alone.


	6. Chapter 6

Twilight is Stephenie Meyer's, grammatical and verb tense errors are all my gig.

Moving away from the angst this chapter, well, aside from Edward's slight bit of self pity.

As before, flashbacks are _italicized_.

* * *

Chapter Six

I left school after I gave both Rosalie Hale and Lauren Mallory warnings that I would not tolerate any further incidents, on or off the course. I secretly had hoped Rosalie would teach Lauren a lesson in manners, but Rosalie would have warred with blemishing her faultless record and not wanting to waste any more time on Lauren. A true conundrum.

I went home and contemplated the day's events. Bella had essentially, broken up with me. Of course, she was doing what should be done, but the sting of it wasn't less because it was the right thing to do.

Sitting down at my piano, whiskey at my beck and call, I puttered around with my Bee / Bella composition. I had been hoping for duality, but what I was getting was anger, pain, self pity, ache and betrayal, maybe in actuality, I achieved pentagonalism.

I didn't know why I was so fucked over this girl. I had spent every morning for the past week beating off to thoughts of her breasts, her scent, her cum noises, her raspy voice, her touch, her rants, her buckeye colored eyes, and her kisses. I felt all of those things and more, seared to my heart. I wondered if I felt this way just because she had pushed me away.

I stopped with the piano, it wasn't offering me the comfort I wanted so I simply went to bed, turning my phone off and shutting my blinds. Waking the next morning, I didn't swim, run or even walk to work. Despite my 10 hours of sleep, I was lethargic and completely disinterested. I went through my classes lacking enthusiasm. When my Senior AP English class came in, I couldn't bear to even glance Bella's way.

There was no practice that afternoon, I returned to my apartment, repeating much the same as the night before.

This became my life, the only variance was if there was cross country or not. Bella and I would still run together, but neither of us exchanged many words. I would steal glances at her, although each glance showed me the same thing, someone who was entirely self-possessed. It almost pained me that she was so unaffected. I was considering asking Carlisle for some type of prescription, but then I didn't want to have to lie or try some half-truths to tell him why I wanted drugs. Solving it another way, I drank. My one whiskey a night turned into three before a week had passed.

Tuesday, two weeks after cross country practices had started, the team had its first meet. It was on the far Northwest side of the city and Coach had asked if I could be one of the drivers to it, since we didn't have a school bus, nor the amount of team members to warrant rental of a bus. I had to say, the meet was the one thing I was looking forward to. As much of a bitch as Lauren Mallory was, she was a fierce competitor, her little, black heart filling her with the need to consume and overtake the other runners. Adding Jessica Stanley as her winger, Lauren often excelled on the course. Then there was Rosalie Hale; her running was beautiful, she got herself into a zone and her muscular legs carried her to the front of the pack every time, and her complete emotional removal from the surrounding runners actually proved to be one of the best psych outs to her competitors; I was excited to see how the women would compete against other teams, I believed we would do well. Of course, I had nothing to base it on, seeing as though I had never seen any of the other teams compete, despite this, I had high hopes for the afternoon's competition.

At the start of that day's senior class, Bella approached me. There were a few other students around, so I expected this to be about class work, although, I hoped it wasn't.

"Uh, Mr. Masen?" Bella asked, trying not to look too long at me.

"Yes, Miss Swan, what can I do for you?" Disgusting, I sound like every other lame high school teacher.

"I hate to ask this, but do you think I can get an early dismissal from class today? I'm one of the drivers for our meet, and to be honest, I need to put some gas in my car, I just didn't have time this morning and I won't have enough to-," I cut her off .

I imagine she was asking me since she figured I wouldn't say no, based on the fact that I was her coach, she was more than an adequate student and of course, our shared history, which was all true, but I just wanted a fucking break from her. I hated how I tried to steal glances at her during class, that I held my breath when she raised her hand, how I watched her ass switch when she walked out of my classroom. I remember when I was a guy, and I missed my balls. I was expecting my Jonas Brothers fan club membership any day now.

"That's fine, I don't need excuses," I reached into the desk and pulled out a piece of paper, writing a dismissal note for Bella. When I handed it to her my fingers accidentally touched the underneath of her hand, before even thinking of what I was doing, I dragged my middle finger to cross along the life, love, head and fate line of her palm. I heard her quiet, sharp intake of air and lingered on her buckeye colored eyes for a moment too long. For less than that fleeting time, we were connected, and I felt a small amount of reassurance that this was not yet void between us.

"Um," she breathed out air she had been holding, "thanks, Mr. Masen, I really appreciate this."

"My pleasure, Isabella." I derived too much pleasure from saying her name, sick fuck that I was.

When class ended, I quickly left, changing into my Coach Clapp approved track pants and St. Jude's t-shirt, another relic absconded from Carlisle's treasure trove of t-shirts. The navy shirt read in white Chancery, "Nothing Is Impossible_…" and on the back, "_With St. Jude Watching Your Back." Below that, there was a silkscreen of a St. Jude devotional candle. Alice had designed it as a fund raiser, they sold over a 1,000 shirts, in the small circle of St. Judeians, it was quite the collectable. Jasper had taken my original one which predicated this larceny of Carlisle's. It was the one time Esme was pissed I took a Carlisle shirt, but I knew she had been so proud of Alice that she bought half a dozen of them and had them secretly squirreled away.

I was walking out to the parking lot in back, when I saw Bella's Cadillac pulling in. I thought again, as I had many times before, to the pleasant memories of that car and the summer. I couldn't help but smile as she got out of the vehicle.

"So Cullen, this is your beast of burden?" Bella asked, lifting her chin in the direction of my car and raising her eyebrows.

"What?" I asked, looking at my it, I didn't see what was wrong with it, it started, no matter what, all throughout the winters and the weight of it meant I always had excellent traction on the snow.

"I guess I'm just surprised that you're driving an Northshore hippy mom car from, what, the 1980's?

"Uh, it's actually the '79 model, I think."

"Oh." She stood there smirking at me. I didn't know what to make of the exchanges we'd had today.

"What," I asked her, enjoying the exasperation I was feeling.

"I guess I never knew you drove a station wagon."

"It was Esme's mom's, Alice and I inherited it when we started to drive, the minute Alice could, she dropped it like a bad habit. I always liked it, it's dependable and steady," and I wished I could have taken back that last part. I was no longer angry with Bella for what she had done, it made sense. I didn't want her to think I was making some snide comment to her about her decision. For lack of a better tactic, I used some humor. "We can't all have righteous vehicles like yours, especially with your slammin' tape collection.

"Yeah, well, thank God for that, too." She stopped a moment. "You know, this is the primary reason why they let me stay on the team," she put her hand on the car. "When it's warm enough, everyone wants to go in the convertible."

"Don't do that, Bee," I said quietly looking down to the ground. "There's a million people in line to put you down, don't do it to yourself," this was something my mother would always say to me if I had a poor piano lesson or didn't run the fastest or didn't get the "A" I expected on a test. "This isn't the Olympics, it's high school, why not let you or anyone else compete because you want to, it's probably the last chance you'll get," she did not respond. My comments, while sincere, were held in the space between us.

We were quiet for a few moments, just looking at one another.

"Do you know, Edward, what one of my most favorites sights in the world is?"

"No, what's that?"

"That moment, just before you walk up to the grandstands at a baseball park, it's all dark and shadowed, then you walk up the stairs, and you walk up into the light. It's majestic and it's breathtaking." She stood there with a slight smile on her face.

I furrowed my brow briefly, not exactly certain what she was actually saying to me.

"Think about it," is what she said, before moving away.

A minute or so later the team members started filing out of the back exit, towards the parking lot.

"Nice car, Mr. Masen," Lauren said, walking away with Jessica laughing.

What the fuck? What is with those bitches? Yeah, and I don't feel bad calling two of my students bitches either.

"Alright, ladies," I heard Bella say in a her slightly low and raspy voice, it was sexy as hell the way she said it, like I could see her up on stage of the Pussy Kat Klub being the hostess, with the white and colored spotlights on her, with her wearing a tight bustier and a pair of small bikinis, and the garter belts and silk stockings, with the seam running up the back. Cripes, it's hot out here. Fuck, focus, I need to focus.

Then I heard Bella finish her sentence, "Which bitches are joining Rosalie and I in the car?" And it's like I could see her cracking the whip down - hard. Three of their team members walk over to join Bella and Rosalie in the convertible.

"Miss Swan, language," I heard Coach Clapp jokingly warn Bella.

"Sorry, coach, I'm just fired up," Bella responded with a sarcastic clenched fist pump in the air, she slyly glanced over to me and gave be the briefest of winks. As always, what this woman did to me.

I climbed into my Volvo trying to focus on the immediate. I was grossed out by being in a car with high school girls and having sexual thoughts of Bella, and it immediately quelled of my inappropriateness. That is, until my phone buzzed, I pulled it out of my pocket while the last of the athletes got in my car.

**-Have fun driving your Vulva. xB**

I stifled a choking chuckle.

* * *

_It had been raining for two days. Stormy clouds surrounded the view from my apartment windows and made for a subdued atmosphere on the interior. Outside of Bee's photo class, neither of us had left the apartment during that time. I was feeling like a caged animal._

"_Hey Bee, let's go out, I'm going stir crazy in here," I said, Bee was sitting in the club chair next to the couch with her feet tucked up underneath her and thoroughly engrossed in a book. She looked up at me._

"_Yeah, let's go," and she popped up off the chair and went to her bag to grab some clothes to go change. I had been sort of thinking of telling her to leave some stuff here, but hadn't gone that far yet. "Edward, can I use your iron?"_

"_Yeah, sure, go ahead," I really should tell her to bring some clothes over or something so we didn't have to go through this every time she spent extended amounts of time at my place. "Hey, Bee, why don't you start leaving some stuff here, you know, so you aren't living out of a bag and stuff when you're here."_

_She stopped in her tracks and paused before turning around. I thought she would be happy, but I was greeted with something less._

"_Um, no, this is cool, I don't mind it this way," she looked at me with a mix of confusion and discomfort, I wasn't quite certain how to take it. She turns and walks away._

_We left shortly thereafter, Bee was dressed in a short, kilt like Burberry skirt and another tight, white t-shirt and black corky sandals, cripes, she looked – illegal. We grabbed a cab outside of the adjoining hotel._

"_Inner Town Pub," I directed the cab driver. We drove along for a few minutes before I started to grope Bee underneath her skirt, trying to drive away the oddity of the earlier exchange between us. She giggled, and half-heartedly tried pushing my hand away._

"_Come on, Edward, we're in a cab for crissakes."_

"_Please, I'm sure he's seen a lot worse," I whisper in a low voice into her ear. I continue to play over her panties._

_She released a shuddering breath before pushing my hand away with finality._

"_Ugh," she says with her eyes closed and her mouth hanging open slightly. "You know I can't be quiet enough to do this."_

"_Fine, I'll stop, but I'm not done with you yet, darlin'" I think I was channeling my inner Jasper._

"_I certainly hope not, stud," she finished with a nasty little Southern drawl of her own, and cupped her hand on my cheek._

_Fuck, this woman was my own brand of spitfire. When we got to the bar, Bee got out of the cab while I went to pay the driver._

"_You got something special there, guy," the cab driver told me raising his eyebrows and tipping his head in Bee's direction._

"_You're not telling me anything I don't already know," I smiled and over tipped him._

_Since it was raining, Bee already made her way in, and I found her standing at the bar, ordering our drinks. I took in her side view, she was beautiful, her hair held up again by those two yellow and green tipped pencils, looking a little mussed, leaning over to the bartender with her ass sticking our slightly, it was a wonder my hands weren't just permanently gorilla-glued to her. I walked over to Bee and put my arm around her waist, I didn't want the hipster barflies to get any ideas._

"_Thanks, James, right?" Bee said. What? She already made friends with the bartender. I tightened my grip round her. This blonde douche sets two drinks in front of us._

"_That's right, Bee," and he gives her the sleaziest smile known to all existence._

_We take a table away on the side, I didn't want Mr. Blonde Douche to have any more view of Bee than necessary._

"_What was that about?"_

"_What was what about?" Bee asks me back._

"_Box blonde over there."_

"_Relax yourself. He just introduced himself to me when he checked my ID, whatever," she held my stony gaze._

"_Fine," I was pouting._

"_Come on, Edward, besides, it always makes sense to be friendly with the bartender. Not to mention, the poor guy is probably bored to tears on a night like this," she looked around the room, reinforcing her statement by the lack of patrons present. She grabs my thigh and starts running her hand slowly up and down. "I only have eyes for you, baby," she whispers in my ear, giving it that favorite lick on the curve like she does. This mollifies me somewhat._

"_What's behind the curtain?" Bee asks, hitching her thumb towards it._

"_Oh, there's a stage, couple of pool tables and a pinball machine."_

"_You play?" she asks me._

"_Pool, yeah."_

"_No, pinball."_

"_Yeah, I guess."_

"_Yeah, me too, I guess," she has a twinkle in her eyes though, I know she's snowballing._

"_I think you're not telling me everything," I smirk at her._

"_No, I just like playing pinball, it's fun, you know? Let me get a couple of more drinks and see if James will let us go back there, unless of course that will shake the bedrock of your manly sensibilities?"_

"_No, my ego is well in check," I say, shaking my head and handing her my credit card for drinks, "go work your new buddy to let us back there."_

_She gets up and sashays to the bar, leaning over it again, her arms pushing her tits together, I know she's working this guy over. She's good, too, she comes back with a big grin on her face._

"_James said we could go back there, just only open the curtain part way since he doesn't want to have to clean up back there tonight. Would you put some music on?"_

_I go to the jukebox and pick out several songs. The selection stopped somewhere in the '80's, but due to Bee's slammin' cassette collection, we've been listening to nothing new since we went to Medieval Times. I slip behind the curtain and see Bee walking around, my first music selection comes on, Brass In Pocket. Bee looks up and me and grins._

_I shrug my arm. "The charms of your cassette collection have won me over."_

"_You might be better served to let Phil know that," she jokes, walking towards me with purpose, setting her drink on a table on her way over. She stands on her tippy toes and runs her fingers through my hair and dances her tongue about my mouth, then, slowly our tongues sliding together, she leans her hips towards mine, the fortunate height of her corky shoes makes the grinding not so awkward. When she pulls away, I grab her hips trying to pull her back to me._

"_Let's hit this, Cullen," Bee says. I start to walk over to the pinball game and she slaps my ass. Feisty._

_I survey the machine, an old time one, not entirely digital or super loud, the kind you can grind up against and it will either make you or break you._

"_Ladies first."_

"_You sure?" Bee cocks an eyebrow at me._

"_Are you trying to psych me out?"_

"_Absolutely not," Bee says to me, filled with devious glee._

"_Fine."_

"_Fine." And she turns to the machine and puts the quarter through the slot and queues up the ball. _

_I grab a bar chair from being turned upside down on a table, and settle near Bee and the pinball machine._

_Bee pulls the plunger back and releases the silver ball into the flurry of the game, her hips swing and gyrate to mimic the silver ball. I soon realize that she is indeed good at the game._

_The music selection progresses along, Lou Reed's Romeo Had Juliet, now playing, and Bee is still on her first play. But I don't care, I am lost to the movement of her hips, how they ascend and descend according to the rise and fall of the silver ball, the way one knee would be lifted up and down, or how her hand would stroke the glass of the table top. Without even consciously thinking about it, I am growing hard just watching her play this game, coupled with the fact of her biting her lip, and her utter concentration to the activity, fuck, I think I might like one night where she did something that didn't excite me, but promptly push that idea out of my head._

_I am lost to her movements and where my brain is trailing off in illicit thoughts I hear her say, "Your game, stud." I laugh, it's so cheesy, it's fucking hot because she says it with such authority with her raspy voice, the voice she has when she wakes up in the morning._

_I begin play, but because by dick has joined the party, my focus is not on this game. And out of the corner of my eye, I see Bee's long looking legs crossed, she's dangling her corky shoe off of her toe. Her toenails are painted red, bright red, like blood when it first hits air. Fuck, how is it everything about me is distracted by Bee? I lose the ball, just a couple of minutes into play, I feel like I'm a premature ejaculator._

"_Tough break, Cullen. Bet it kind of feels like you came in your pants before you could unhook the girl's bra, huh?" Her teasing is merciless._

"_Maybe, I'm lulling you into a false sense of calm, just waiting for you to become too comfortable before I launch myself, poisoning you with my studly venom, rendering you immobile while you lay there looking at me saying, 'Rosebud, Rosebud.'"_

_She stood there looking at me like I had three ball sacks on my forehead before finally speaking. "Do you want me to take you to Orson Welles' grave so you can shit on him in person?" _

"_Enough with the blow, how 'bout some show?" I say, all TV cop tuff._

"_So sensitive, my little snow sled," all she is, is merciless._

_She steps up to the machine and it's a repeat all over again, except, this time it seems slower, more sensual, more like I'm watching this from a movie, and am completely engrossed in the plotline. Before I realize what I'm doing, I'm up behind her, running my hands down her shoulders, underneath her breasts, down the side of her torso, over her hips and I am back to reaching under her skirt. Over her panties, I run my hand back and forth, and begin to feel the moisture through the silky material. How her body is always so demonstrative in her arousal is nothing short of an ego boost to me, I mean, I've had to use lube before with other women, but the fact that my Bee, is always so responsive to my touch, makes me feel like a man, like we are the fix to one another's craving addiction._

"_Are you trying to distract me, Edward," she says, quietly, obviously distracted, I bring my one hand up to her breast and feel her nipple harden under my light touches._

_She's still playing her turn, but pressing her ass against my crotch more with each passing moment. The muted signs of her success in the game, ding, pling, clang-clang-clang, all continue on, focused on her multi tasking. My hands continue to roam and stroke her body_

"_Ugh, Edward, what are you going to do, I'm nearly fucking dripping down my thighs here," she's not, but it's my cue to continue._

"_Shh, baby," I blow in her ear, she leans her head back on my shoulder. It's at that point I realize I don't have a condom, my last wallet one being used in the back of the Cadillac a few nights prior in the parking lot up north at Lighthouse Beach. "Fuck," I can't help myself from saying._

"_What, what's wrong?" she has brought her arm up and put her hand around the back of my neck but now she turns herself around and is looking at me._

"_I don't have a condom."_

_She looks at me for a while and I am uncomfortable, even though we had met under sexual red flag conditions, we had never broached the topic of birth control, and STD's, we'd always been conscientious of gloving our loving, as Carlisle would say, believing, and only to himself, that he was ever the clever and hipster doctor._

"_Have you ever been tested?" she asks._

"_Uh, yeah, you?" Carlisle made Alice and I both take tests when we were 16, he didn't have any illusions to sex and the teenager, he made it a thing, twice a year, when we would spring ahead or fall back the clock for daylight savings time, he would take us to get tested, even if we had been safe all year, he said, one could never be safe enough. Carlisle grew up in the time of the devastation of AIDS and HIV, plus, he said, the resurgence of other STD's over the past 15 years was alarming. If Alice and I were to be truthful, it kind of scared us straight. After I had hooked up with Tanya, that Monday I marched my shit to the clinic and had a test done, fortunately, everything was negative, it was not long after that, that I had met Bee, she had been my first partner since the test._

"_Yeah, in June, I also give blood every six weeks. When was yours?"_

"_I did in June, too. You give blood?" I'm surprised. A few days ago, she cut her leg shaving and screamed bloody murder, I ran across the apartment and flew into the bathroom to find her facing the shower wall, with her arm bent in front of her saying she couldn't bear to look at what she had done to herself. I thought she was kidding at first, until she started with the dry heaves and it drove me into action of applying pressure to stop the bleeding, putting some Neosporin to stop infection and putting a gauze bandage on it. Truth be told, I thought she was being a little dramatical. The thought of her giving blood had to earn the phlebotomist a medal of honor, as for Bella, I wondered what she did to keep her shit inline for her self-inflicted agony. Ignoring my giving blood comment, she continued._

"_I'm on the pill, too," she said, shyly. I never understood when she got like this, shy over sex, she was one of the most adventurous and open sexual partners I had ever had, I was at a loss to her embarrassment at times. But I had to confirm with her, she didn't want to leave a toothbrush at my place or a set of underwear, so unprotected sex might be too much._

"_You want to go ahead, baby?" I tried not to be too convincing one way or the other, it was her decision. "It's totally up to you."_

_She looked at me, taking her lip between her front teeth. She was weighing the options._

"_Yeah," she said, "I want to feel you, all of you." Thank fuck._

_We started to kiss in earnest, easing into and away from the seriousness of our blood disease discussion. I reached underneath her shirt, running my hands over her beautiful abdomen, up to her sugary tits. I pulled her bra cup down so her breast spilled out filling my hand with her soft pastry flesh and her hardened nipple. I repeat to the neighboring boob._

_She starts making noises in her throat, I feel the hum in her neck. With this, I trailed my nose down the side of her neck, smiling and kissing her shoulder, having pulled her t-shirt away._

_Bee pulled her hand down my chest and brought it back up underneath the fabric, back to my shoulder blades, scratching me. Fuck, which overrides, pleasure or pain?_

"_Bee, take off your panties," I direct her, speaking in a low tone in her ear._

_She looks at me and without breaking eye contact, she pushes the panties down, pulling one leg out, then the other. It's totally porno movie-ish, but I could care less. She sets the panties on the chair._

"_Turn around," I say darkly, and she turns back to the pinball machine and looks at me over her shoulder. She leans down on her forearms. I lift up her skirt and rub my finger back and forth along her slit, so much better without the fabric in the way. I run my hands over her ass, firm from her running. She gives me an anxious wiggle._

"_What's the hold up there, bub? I'm kind of exposed here with some vinyl curtain between me and the rest of the bar."_

"_Shh, stay still," I say, in actuality taking in this sight before me. It's empowering to me._

"_But…"_

"_No. Don't move."_

"_Edward, please."_

"_Ssshh."_

_I unzipped my pants and wished I had not worn underwear, fuck it, in for a penny, in for a pound, I pull my pants and boxers down and rub my cock along her highly aroused sex. I am torn between slamming the holy hell into her and trying to savor it. I take my fingers, assessing her arousal, wanting her to be wet enough even without too much physical foreplay, fortunately she is. She always is. For me. Fuck it._

"_You ready, babe?"_

"_Now, Edward."_

_And I don't savor, I slam. Bee bends her head to the crook of her shoulder releasing her moans there. And I pause, momentarily, hearing J.J. Cale's, _Let Me Do It to You_. The guy made a whole fucking song with one lyric, and it's too apropos, too cliché, but then, so is fucking in a bar._

"Let me do it to you,"_ slam, "_Let me do it to you_," slam, "_Let me do it to you_," slam. I'm of course not going to last long acting so feral. I slow down, Bee's head is hanging in front of her, her hands gripping the side of the game. The silver ball catches my eye, jostling in the track before being released to the action of the table, but the movement is coming from Bee and I. I remove my hand from her hip and reaching in front, find her clit, I start to circle it._

"_Baby, where are you?"_

"_Uhhh, just a little more," she lets out her staggered request. _

_I reach, taking some of our combined wetness and continue to circle her clit, this finds her rhythm and she begins to more desperately push back into me. I see her arm move to touch her breast, she's grabbing urgently, pleasure and pain intertwined again, I am certain._

"_Edward," she pants, reaching her arm back, her hand finding my hair, "right, fucking, there," and she lets her climax find its pinnacle. She is breathing hard, and I continue to circle her clit, pushing the boundaries of her sensitivity._

"_Come on, Edward," she is panting out, coaxing me, "fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," and we're both feral now. I push deep into her and stiffen, letting myself cum full bore and feeling her clench around me, she's fallen again, she's falling after me._

_We're relatively still for a few moments before I pull out. I rub Bee's back while she is bent over the pinball table. This was different. Raw and uncensored and untamed. I am about to say something, feeling like I took things too far, like I couldn't control my urges but Bee stops me cold._

"_That, was fucking fantastic," she states to me, as a matter of fact, "I never realized how much you were holding back."_

_I stare at her dumbly. Did she really just say that? I never even knew I was holding back._

_

* * *

_

I drive the car full of women to the meet, they ask me embarrassing questions, trying to find out about my personal life, it's disturbing and irritating.

_Mr. Masen, where do you live?_ Right, like I would tell a car full of female high school students that answer.

_Mr. Masen, who's your girlfriend?_ Well, no one at the moment, but I spent the summer fucking a senior class member of the literary club, maybe you know her, 'cause I sure as shit don't.

_Mr. Masen, where do you hang out?_ Currently, ladies, I have a one room bungalow, complete with no view and booked indefinitely on the isle of self-pity.

I was grateful when we made it to the forest preserve, and I intended to ask Coach Clapp how to stem the tide of uncomfortable questions.

Coach and I stood at the end of the course with stop watches, a clipboard and a first aid kit, tracking our runners.

We came in third.

And the season and school progressed, St. Jude's was neither at the low end or high end of the Cross Country standings, but, we were good enough to be invited to the season ending tournament.

The tourney was being held on the last Saturday of October at Caldwell Woods, up north of the city. The top six schools in our division were competing; the winners were based on the best cumulative average score of all participating runners. Rosalie and Lauren had been outstanding the past three meets, with Jessica becoming a strong third as well. Prior from leaving from the school parking lot, Bella tried talking to Coach Clapp and myself, asking not to participate.

"Bella," Coach Clapp said, "there's no point in running as a team if you're not going to participate."

"But, Coach, it doesn't make sense, I'll just bring our average down," Bella argued.

"Nonsense, we got this far with you, we're not letting you drop now," Coach Clapp said, with finality. "And, lassie, don't think you're getting out of the party either, Mrs. Clapp has been tootin' on about it for two weeks," Coach Clapp said this to break the tension.

"I would have the party regardless, just tell them I have a strained muscle, I'll help Angela keep track of the runners. We could really compete if it's not for me," Bella went on, fruitlessly trying to convince us to let her not run. I understood why she was going on about this, but Coach had his own theories of competition, sort of a stand together, die alone, type of approach

And fuck. Her party. Apparently, it was tradition for the worst senior class runner to have to hold the end of season party. Bella had passed out invites to all of us, saying to brings _Dates and a Dish_! Yeah, I laughed at the cheesiness of it. But, I wasn't planning on going until Coach Clapp had made a huge deal about it, it was all tradition, he went on and on. Since the team was so small, and essentially ad hoc, they were marked as maverick and rogue in their ways, but apparently, having a _legendary_ party every year. They had their own awards ceremony at this party, and invited Sr. Cope and the coaches and all the team participants. Of course there were two parties, the "official," one, then the "unofficial," the unofficial one was where the legendary moniker was claimed.

"You're running, that's final, now let's get going. And we're bringing the Green River tonight, so no need to worry about that."

"Looking forward to it," Bella said, with less enthusiasm than a sousaphone player on a hot day marching on a football field.

I caught up with her walking to the cars.

"Bella, um, I was thinking about ducking out tonight."

"Fuck that," she spit out quietly enough that only we could hear one another. "I'm not trying to be the worst on the team, but here I am, so you can drag your shit to this stupid party for a couple of hours. I mean, Sr. Cope and Coach Clapp and the whole crew will be there, it's going to be brutal, I'm not going down alone on that ship," she started to pull away, trying to no draw attention to our conversation. "Coach, you're bringing the mixed greens right? Don't forget, dressing on the side!"

"That was dirty."

Then she went for the jugular, "Come on, don't you have some morbid curiosity on where I live?"

I did.

"I'll see you later, Coach," she said winking at me, before jogging over to meet up with Rosalie Hale.

As it had been in the last couple of months, she left me wanting more.

Before I left to drive to the meet, I sent Jasper and Alice a text inviting them tonight, Alice called me almost immediately.

"Edward, really, a high school party?" I could hear the battling glee and sarcasm coming from Alice.

"Yes, Alice, a high school party, for my cross country team. I just need you two as an excuse, or at least you, I really don't want to go to this thing and having you there will help hasten an early departure."

"Wait, what kind of party is this? What's it for?"

"Do you ever listen to me? Read my texts?"

"Not really."

"It's the Cross Country end of season party. I guess they have a potluck and awards kind of thing," I trailed off.

"You should have said that from the outset, Edward. That party, it's like, legendary in the realms of St. Jude's. At least the after party is, do they still do that, have an after party or has everything become all helmets, knee pads, promise rings and G-rated movies?" Hardly promise rings and children's movies, that much is for certain.

"What's with this party?"

"What part of legendary did you not understand? Remember when I was a junior and I came home with, 'The Impossibles,' tattooed on my foot like a winged Mercury? That shit happened at the C-CAP," she said this like _see cap_.

"Alright, whatever, it's just more reason why you have to come with me, I want to get the fuck out of there as soon as I am able."

"Lighten up, Francis, I'll go with you, what time?"

I gave Alice all the info and left for the meet.

* * *

Jasper had come with us, I think more out of high school girl fascination than anything else. I tried to explain to him that the students didn't wear their uniforms at all waking hours, I don't think he believed me.

Surprisingly, Bella lived really close to me, it was a three story brownstone in the Gold Coast. When we pulled up, I was the only one who stared at the house with apprehension, Alice and Jasper jumped out of the cab without a care, I tried to mimic their ease.

"Here, come on, she said it was the first floor or go in back to the yard," I said, looking at the invite.

We went to the front door and rang the bell, just out of politeness, but there was no answer, so we let ourselves in. Her home was all browns and ochers , oranges and maroons, it was like permanently fall in there with leather sofas and Pullman chairs, sort of Arts and Crafts, with a definite male theme. When I looked around more thoroughly I saw there was baseball stuff, everywhere. Jasper also spotted it.

"Hey man, look at this shit, what's this girl's family do?" Jasper asked me.

"I don't know, I think it's her step-dad," I really knew very little about her.

Then I saw her. She came walking into the room dressed in white cream short sleeved mock turtleneck with dark red pencil legged pants with black flats on. The sight of her beautifully aristocratic ankles was sexy as fuck. And yeah, I was a girl for being able to describe the outfit, but she looked incredible in the simple choices she wore. She had her hair swept up on her head, held up with those two yellow and green tipped pencils. If I didn't know how much she hated the whole Audrey Hepburn female fascination, then I would have said she nailed the look to a tee.

She came up to our little group and had a smile on her face, like she was running for the neighborhood chair of the Halloween penny fund.

"Hi, Mr. Masen," she looked at me, briefly, but I felt like Jasper and Alice would know immediately the history between us. If they did, they kept it to themselves.

"Isabella, um, yeah, I brought my sister and her boyfriend. Alice, Jasper, this is Isabella Swan, she's our worst runner."

"Bella," she said, extending her hand to my sister and her boyfriend.

Jasper looked at me like a kicked a baby seal.

Alice took Jasper's arm and proceeded to explain, "Oh, right, of course, that's why you're having the party," Alice said. "Jas, that's the lack of victor's spoils, the worst runner has to give the end of season party, it's sort of the fun of it."

"Yeah, that's one way of putting it," Bella said with amused sarcasm.

The conversation sort of stopped, like they were waiting for me to contribute. What was I going to say, Bee and I spent all summer fucking like animals, now she's my student, and I can't get over her, even though she's been the voice of reason in this whole debacle and has the brains enough for the both of us?

Instead I said, "Uh, here, it's a salad," I did not look at her when I said this, instead averting my eyes to the book shelves lining the walls, "and, uh, some flowers, school colors. I was really proud of our team today," and I hope she took that comment for all of the sincerity that it held. Bella hadn't come in last, second to last, but she pushed herself, making the difference that our team came in second instead of fourth.

"Uh, thanks," she said, looking at the flowers with confusion, "but these aren't really school colors." I looked at the flowers, the florist gave me some white spidery looking things and ones that I thought were blue, but looking at it now, it was more purple. Bella, regaining her composure, or manners, I wasn't sure which, apologized, "I mean, thank you, they are really pretty, I will , um, set these out for everyone to enjoy."

"Yeah, well, they don't make too many blue flowers, this was the closest they had," I was embarrassed, it was a dumb to bring flowers.

She looked at me, puzzled. I wanted to run my thumb between her brows and smooth away the line that was present because she was trying to work through something.

Alice had the grace enough to offer help and relieve the discomfort that had befallen our group. "Come on, Bella, let me help you arrange these," and she took her arm and took my salad and was led to what I assumed to be the kitchen.

"I know that girl from somewhere," Jasper said.

I felt the blood drain from my face and tried cataloging if Bee, Jasper and I had spent any time together this summer. But we couldn't have, Alice would have remembered that right away. To myself, I breathed a slight sigh of relief.

"Shit, man, I don't remember high school girls being this hot," Jasper commented while looking at Rosalie Hale who had walked into the room.

"Shut up, Jasper, this is a work thing for me," I tried to stop his school girl fantasies right there.

"Hi Coach," Rosalie said, walking over to us.

"Hi, Rosalie. Great job, today."

"Thanks, it felt good. Lauren's pissed, no surprise," she looked at me with a half smile playing across her mouth, referring back to our first practice when she almost knocked Lauren out with a sharp elbow. "But, yeah, I think we all did really well, especially Bella, I'm really proud of her," Rosalie, for her insecurities and car-show model beauty, was genuine with her compliment to her friend.

"Yes, me too, she really pushed herself," I stated. "Oh, Rosalie, this is my sister's boyfriend, Jasper Whitlock, Jasper, this is Rosalie Hale, she's our best runner."

"Hello, Miss Hale," dirty Jasper laid the Southern charm on like gold leaf to a gilt frame.

Rosalie, thankfully ignored Jasper's luridness, "So, Coach, have you had a chance to walk around yet? Here, come on, Coach Clapp and his wife, and Sr. Shelly are in the other room," and she led us through Bella's well appointed home.

I was greeted by Coach Clapp and his bumbling wife, they were like a central casting pair, I expected them to each have rosy cheeks and the Missus wearing an apron with a batch of cookies greet him every day when he came home from working as a widget repairman.

While standing there talking with them I surreptitiously scanned the room, looking for Bella. I spotted her talking with some tall, muscled guy with some bullshit long ponytail, I clenched my fists before realizing where I was. I watched as Alice went up to Bella and stole her away from ponytail douche guy.

Sr. Shelly gave me a warm hug and congratulated me on the success of our team. I told her it was all Coach Clapp's guidance and the abilities of our student. She beamed with pride, I wanted no part in accepting any of it, not with my licentious thoughts of Bella.

"Edward, did I see Alice about?" Sr. Shelly asked.

I shook my head bringing myself back to the conversation, "Yes, here, let me go find her, I know she was looking forward to seeing you," I forced a smile and excused myself to find my sister.

I walked around, unfamiliar with my surroundings, trying to find Alice and catch a glimpse to where Bella had disappeared. Along the way I was stopped into various conversations and introductions to various boyfriends and the like. I tried to pass as calm while inside I was being eaten alive with uncertainty and unease at being in Bee's home and the tall muscled guy she was with earlier.

Then I spotted her and Alice descending a staircase in the back, and I felt the anxiety bubble up in my throat.

"Hi, Edward!" Alice waved from across the room. Bella stared at me with all the effortlessness and ease of a Sunday morning. "Thanks for the tour, Bella," and Alice took my arm and let me lead her to Sr. Cope.

"Ohmygawd, I wish you could see her bedroom," I cringed, "it's brilliant. And she has Scalamandre wallpaper in her bathroom, I want to set up a pink tent and have slumber parties with little lanterns and citronella candles because it's so divine. Esme would shit a murder of crows, she would love it so much. And her murals and Chinese rugs, it's so curious.

"That's nice, Alice," Alice was a good distraction like this; I could focus on her yammering which took my mind away from the imminent doom I was feeling.

"It's really quite genius; quite innovative in her decorating style, she said she did it all herself, well, the selection, I mean. It's a shame you can't go look at it. Maybe I can sneak you up there-," I cut her off.

"No!" easy there, Ed. "I have no desire to be anywhere near a student's room, are you crazy?" because, obviously, I was, I had every desire to be in her room.

"Whatever, lighten up, Edward, you lack any and all fun these days. You have no sparkle, no flair, it's like hanging out with the man in the grey flannel suit," interesting comparison, especially considering Alice hasn't read anything published prior to Valley of the Dolls.

"Do you know where Jasper went to?" I ask, hopefully moving away from the current subject.

"Ugh, I don't know, jacking off into a houseplant?" 10 to 1 odds, she's right on the money with that summation. "Hi, Sr. Shelly, how are you? I'm so happy to see you!" Alice's ability to stop on a dime astounded me.

I stood there while Alice caught up with our Principal. Again, I was trying to scan the room to find Bella, then I spotted her.

She was running across the room and she jumped on some big guy's back, he grabbed her while she put her arms around his neck in a piggyback ride.

"Emmett!" I heard her say loudly, "I ask you, when are you going to leave Rosalie and have a torrid affair with me," she said this, her voice raspy and sexy, planting a wet, full lipped kiss on his cheek.

Coach Clapp walked by, "Miss Swan, language," but could see the humor in his eyes towards her.

The big guy continued, "Aw, honey, you name the date and time, and I'll be there!"

"Emmett, you're such a tease, one day you'll man up and show me what makes Rose so giddy."

"Ugh, get a room, you two," Rosalie said, walking past them coolly but obvious to the teasing nature of Bella and this Emmett guy.

"See, Rosalie doesn't care," Bella said, bouncing up and down his back.

But, Emmett stopped holding Bella up, letting her slide down off of him, like she was a firefighter off to an emergency, and left her to go chased after Rosalie.

"Always the bridesmaid, Rose, never the bride!" yelled Bella in Rosalie and Emmett's wake.

If I wasn't jealous of this Emmet character, I would have found the scene funny.

A few minutes later I heard Bella's voice again.

"Hi everyone," Bella was standing on a chair to address the crowd. "Um, thanks for coming here tonight, if you haven't gotten anything to eat yet, please help yourself to all the thoughtful dishes people brought over, and don't forget, the Green River from Coach Clapp! Let's go to the living room for our awards ceremony," and I watched as the muscled, ponytailed guy took her hand so she could step off the chair. Smooth fucker.

Once we were all assembled in the living room, Coach Clapp stood and addressed the group, congratulating them and passing out awards. There were serious awards, Rosalie Hale receiving Best Competitor, Lauren Mallory and Jessica Stanley receiving, Best Duo, Bella receiving, Most Improved, then each student got up and presented a classmate with an award. When it was Bella's turn she stood up, looking at the room, waiting for the murmurs to die down before continuing.

"And our final awards for this evening go to our faithful coaches, Mr. Clapp and Mr. Masen, who through it all, remained above the fray of sharp elbows, locker room talk, fashion crises, bad hair days and group, um, feminine issues, all handled with aplomb and poise to rival Mike Ditka," the crowd clapped and laughed at Bella's joke. She walked the awards to each of us. When I took mine, I saw that her eyes were glassy, she was not clumsy in her ways, but I recognized this behavior and hoped she would not be caught.

Sister Cope stood up after Bella walked back to her seat.

"Ladies, coaches," she said, looking at the room, "I am proud of your season, and hope all of you are proud of yourselves too. I know you are anxious to begin your own _student_ party, and I ask that each of you be careful and use good judgment this evening," she said with a smile to help the implied meaning of her statement and went on to give a benediction to the group.

Everyone stood up and went to thank Coach Clapp, Sr. Shelly and myself for attending tonight, effectively kicking us out of Bella's home.

I was waiting for Alice to finish talking with Bella. Of course Alice would be all over her, because in the case of why can't things ever be easy, my life fell far away from that realm. Jasper was standing beside me.

"How the fuck are you around this every day?" Jasper asked, honest in his inquiry.

"Around what?" I asked back, although I knew exactly what he was referring to.

"All these girls? I mean, shit, the next one is hotter than the last one, add to that, the short skirts and tight blouses, fuck," he shakes his head at the thought.

I tried to figure out how I wanted to answer him. Truth was, maybe, a few months ago, I would have found the thought of being around the students of St. Jude's, funny, like a male fantasy joke, but now, it's just flat, it's a job I wake up to do because I made the commitment to do so, but, I don't enjoy being a teacher. I don't have a talent for teaching in a group setting, it's simply a difficult profession. Finding a teacher who is inspiring every day to students and is excited to share the same knowledge over and over, year in and year out, is a find, a treasure for the students and institution, equally. I am no such treasure. And add to that, my torment over a student, regardless of the circumstances, it's miserable, I hate the self loathing that has settled in my day to day existence. My answer to him is indifferent.

"It's just a job, Jasper, and the uniform, they might as well be wearing prison orange, everyone looks the same in it, it's a non-issue."

"Yeah, well, I'd like to be in that prison for a while," and with that, I know Jasper has moved on to a prison slut fantasy. He's a sick and predictable guy.

Alice finally finished chatting with Bella and they walked over to us.

"Thanks, Mr. Masen, for coming by," Bella said, slightly flushed, she had a bottle of water in her hand. I wanted to ask who that ponytailed guy was.

"Thank you, Bella, this was really nice, and thanks for my award," I smiled. She smiled back, like a student, not anything else. We had turned to leave.

"Oh, wait, Mr. Masen, can you hold on a minute for me to grab that book you lent me, I just have it upstairs," and she took off, not very quickly, but with purpose. I hadn't lent her any books.

"Um, why don't you two go outside and find a cab, I should be out in a minute."

"Sure thing, Mr. Masen," Alice joked, running her finger under my chin.

I stood in the foyer waiting for Bella to return, when she came back she handed me a copy of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.

"Yeah, don't lose that bookmark," she said, looking at me a beat too long before turning to join her classmates' celebration.

I clutched the book and entered into the cab that was waiting for me in front of her house.

"What's that," Alice makes to take the book, I move it away, holding it up to show her the title, hoping she doesn't try to take it from me.

"What's with that?"

"I lent it to a student working on an essay."

Alice, holding little interest to most things literary, continued on.

"Where are we going tonight?"

Jasper is saying something but I'm not paying attention, "I'm just going to go home and sleep, it's been a long day," in actuality, I am curious of this book and bookmark, more specifically.

"One little high school, not even a party, and you're pooped out? You suck, Edward, you're what, now a Ward, you're so old," and Alice sits there, ignoring me. I ask the driver to drop me off at my building.

"I'll see you two later, I'll give you a call tomorrow, maybe we can get brunch," I offer.

"Only if you can find it in your precious schedule, Ward. You suck," Alice sneers and slams the door. That's gonna be some shit to smooth over.

I make it back to my place, go to the couch and open the book, there, on the blank bookmark the words, "EAT ME," are written in a black Sharpie, there is a little plastic bag taped to it, I pull the tape away and see it's a pill. Most likely the same kind of pill Bella had ingested earlier in the evening. I flip the bookmark over to see her handwriting.

-Will you still have me? xB

I look at the pill and try to decide what to do.

* * *

A few notes (sorry, I know I get too chatty):

I'll leave it to you, cicada wing sized amount of readers, to decide if anything should be read into Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland presence in this chapter, I didn't intend it, I don't think.

I think this is a good point for me to post my Chapter One outtake, from Bee's PoV, I hope to have that either in the next few days, or few weeks, since I am unable to keep my regular life at bay to post. It'll be posted separately, let's say I'll call it something clever, like OUTTAKE, Bee, Like Sting, keep an eye out for it!

Green River is a soda originally produced in Chicago during the Prohibition, it's served in kitschy places like Ed Debevic's.

The cities and towns north of Chicago, proper, is called the Northshore as they line Lake Michigan. Much of the Northshore is upper middle class to quite well to do.

For those not aware, Rosebud is from Orson Welles' film, Citizen Kane. People make a huge deal over this movie, eeh.

Inner Town Pub is real, it used to be cool until Lincoln Park sucked up Wicker Park and is infringing on Ukrainian Village. I did sort of change the layout of it.

I've put links to JJ Cale's Let Me Do It To You (a whole song, and that's all the lyrics, I wasn't kidding.) And Lou Reed's Romeo Had Juliette "…her voice was like a bell…" I always forget how much I love this song, "…with Latin written on it that says it's hard to give shit these days…"

Thank you to PinkIndeed, poor woman got drafted unsuspectingly into dealing with my insecurities this chapter and hearing of my talk of bats, she was very cool, and check out her stories too!


	7. Chapter 7

Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

Grammatical errors and shifting verb tenses are all me. As before, the _italicized_ portion of this chapter is a flashback.

I hate to have to say this, but if you are under the age of 18, please find another story to read.

* * *

Chapter Seven

I believe, this is what they call, being given keys to the kingdom.

-_**Will you still have me?**_

Now that I had been given this opportunity, I wondered if I should take it. What can we do, sneak around until everyone forgets I spent a year teaching at St. Jude's and Bella was my student? Is that fair to Bella to feel like some sort of concubine?

I want nothing more than to have her, there's no way I could deny it. Why even fight it?

I continue to sit, I don't know for what, waiting for a sign? If I move forward, I am doing some seriously bad stuff. And there's no turning back after this time, I know this much is true.

I don't care.

But I continue to sit on my couch, looking out at the blue of the evening.

Then, I feel the vibrate of my phone, pulling it out of my pocket, I look and answer.

"Hey guy, what's up?"

"Dude, why don't you roll out with us? I know Alice was, severe, but you know, that's how she is - get over it," Jasper says, as normal, not mincing his words.

I contemplate the offer. If I go out with them, it's only for distraction, kind of shitty of me to use them that way, and I can't even be honest with and say that's why I'm hanging with them.

"Yeah, where are you two?"

I get the info from Jasper and head out the door. But before I leave, I take half of the pill.

Fuck it, I'll see how the night takes me. I take a cab to meet them and I'm glad this is where they are, quiet, chill, booths, not much chance of me getting in too much trouble.

Alice is surprised to see me when I walk in, I understand since I barely have hung out with them since Bella entered my life.

"Well, look what the Beav dragged in, ol' Ward," Alice said, somewhere between nastiness and acceptance.

I lean over and give Alice a kiss on her cheek.

"Are you on something?"

"You two want drinks?" I don't want to explain shit to Alice. She's not distracted, but lets me have my way, this one time.

Jasper chews on a toothpick and tips his drink towards Alice's, then shakes his half empty glass at me, indicating refills. I go to the bar getting their drinks and drop them back at the table, I'm restless, again feeling, as Bella calls it, _sixes and sevens_. I don't know what I want to do, or what I need to do.

"Yeah, I'm gonna run across the street, get a pack of smokes, I'll be back."

My shit is all about the oral this evening. I cross the street to the gas station and pick up a pack of Parliaments, Bee thought these were funny, on the rare occasion she would have smoke, she'd ask for a Bootsy Collins.

I walk back and stand in front of the bar, it's surprising, there're no other degenerate smokers out with me. But then, it is still early for a Saturday. I stand, taking a pull on my smoke, watching the ceaseless traffic from the expressway above, creating a certain white noise and I enjoy the brief solitude and darkness while trying to decide what to do.

"Edward?" I hear a voice I know I've heard before. I turn and see the guy with the crepey skin. Tanya's daddy issue time filler. What the fuck was his name?

"Aro, we met at Tanya's party," he puts his hand out for me to shake, I oblige. He pulls out a cigarette of his own and stands next to me.

"How's Tanya?" I ask him.

"Oh, she's alright. I suppose. I only see her once in a while, when she wants something I can provide."

"Yeah, she's like that," I say to him, he won't mind me being honest about that, most anyone who's met Tanya knows she's a user of people. "What brings you around here?"

"Actually, I was arranging for a car, I had some troubles with mine."

I look across the street at the car dealership and wonder how he was hooked up with a dealership on a Saturday night at 11:00 PM.

"Aro, you mind if I ask you something, something personal?" I don't know what's prompting me to do this, but it's out there now.

He seems to think this over for a moment, assessing me in some way before he answers.

"I had to ask you if you wanted to participate in a three-way, I think I owe you to answer a question or two," he says, joking about the uncomfortable situation of how we met.

"True," I let out a dismissive puff of air before I take a breath and proceed. "Have you ever had a relationship that you shouldn't?" I ask this because this guy owned nightclubs, no doubt, somewhere along the way, he dabbled in something he shouldn't have. I don't want to ask this guy what to do for my own situation, but I'm curious how he handled one of his own.

He takes a deep breath. "You're asking if I was unfaithful?"

"Oh, no, not really, I mean, I wasn't asking to pry into your personal life, I just thought, you know, you, being a man of the world, that you might have been in a similar situation as I am, currently."

He laughs. "Man of the world," he shakes his head. "That's rich; man of the world," he trails off, like I was some precocious eight year old boy, unwise to the way things really worked. Finally, he addressed my question.

"Have I ever had a relationship that I shouldn't have?" He repeats my question, then pulls another cigarette out and lights it, I do the same, taking a Bootsy Collins.

"Years ago, before I was a nightclub _magnate_, as people like to say, I was in liquor distribution, working for my wife's father."

I must have been looking at him a certain way because he clarifies.

"I drove a beer truck. I was young, had a couple of years of junior college under my belt, but got Sulpicia, that was my wife, I got her pregnant, so I dropped out of school and we got married. Her father hated me, hated me for believing that I took the virtue of his only daughter and having to give me a job to support the family we would be starting. He thought I was a failure before we even had a chance to do anything." I looked at Aro, he wasn't paying attention to me, I felt for the guy, what kind of incentive is it to build a life when you've already been told that you were a piece of shit?

"When the child was born, he was dead, stillborn. Sulpicia was angry. This wasn't the life she had envisioned. No one ever thinks that, but she didn't want to marry me, at least not the way she had, she wanted to go to school too, learn computers, get a job in her father's company, work her way up; but he wasn't having any of that. And after spending nine months, having to get married, and have her life set out for her, birthing a stillborn, it was devastating and she was so utterly defeated. Who could blame her, she didn't love me, or she hadn't fallen in love with me, we met on a dance floor, and had sex in the back of my car. No girl dreams of building a future after fucking some guy in the back of a 1977 Mercury Montego." I didn't know if this was supposed to be a joke or not, I kept my mouth shut.

"Sulpicia tried to make the best of the situation, cooking dinners, keep the house clean, all the things a good wife does. I instead, worked two routes. I learned about bars and night clubs, talked with owners and bartenders, learned what people were dancing to, the best DJs, the cool styles, the best drugs. A-listers and riffraff, I new all about it and what made the city tick after the lights of the Loop were turned down."

I chanced a glance at Aro. His eyes were trained to something else, far away. I was surprised he was laying his life's story out to me, I was embarrassed that he was, I hadn't meant for him to go into some heavy duty shit. I dropped my smoke watching the orange embers scatter, trying in vain to continue burning, then I stubbed it out with the toe of my shoe.

Aro continued.

"This when I realized Chicago was missing something, something that New York had, something that I knew Chicago should have. Clubs, you know, big discos. There wasn't anything in the downtown area that filled that need. It was around this time, mid-eighties, where house music in Chicago was just starting to make a real name for itself. I started going to the parties, parties that were probably illegal, but went on, regardless. People would show up, dressed like Elton John flamboyant, but cooler, hipper, more urban than anything seen in the regular bars and discos. God, it was a sight to behold. And the music, it was incredible. Disco, Euro-pop, gospel, electronic beats; all finely honed and meshed together, it was exciting. You gotta understand, this was so new, so different, it was unique, I mean, when was the last time you heard something different?"

I could hear in Aro's voice that he was reliving this through his retelling. I gave the guy credit, he was an after dark visionary.

"I went to Sulpicia's father and told him what I wanted to do. I asked him if he wanted to be a silent partner, to help me start this business. I knew it would be successful, one look at the crowds these parties had and there was no doubt, everything from queens to teens and then there was me, some unassuming 30 something year old guy, how could it fail? It still took several months but he agreed, not for me, but for his daughter, I guess. I had to promise, though, that I would continue to be a driver, Monday through Thursday, it was difficult, but I did it. I opened my first club, Gloaming, and it went from there. Within two years, I had bought out Sulpicia's father, giving him above his asking price, and that was purely out of spite. He still disliked me, but gave me respect for my hard work, I took pleasure in that he was now my vendor and I, his client.

"The club was a great success. I was never home and I left Sulpicia managing our personal finances; investments, property, and the personal payouts."

I again looked at him with question, personal payout could mean a lot of things.

"You can't run a bar, restaurant or club in the city of Chicago without greasing the wheels along the way. Everyone from the Alderman to Precinct Captains, everyone has their hand out. Everyone has a price."

I nodded my head.

"Based on the success of my first club, I opened a second one. The girls were prettier; the music, hotter; the drinks, stronger. Violet asked me for a ride home, and Violet turned into Josephine and Josephine turned into Brigitte, and on it went."

I silently nodded my head.

"And of course, Sulpicia found out, I wasn't exactly being discreet, nothing stays a secret in Chicago. She begged me to give her another chance, she wanted this to work between us, regardless of how it started, she felt we could be together. I didn't even try, I saw pretty girls who wanted me for my name and reputation and connections and Sulpicia wanted me for what was here, and here," he put a hand over his heart, then moved his finger up to his head. "That wasn't sexy to me. I'd had Sulpicia and once she'd been part of my collection, I discarded her without a second thought."

I looked at him when he gave this admission, I didn't know if this was out of guilt or fact. Aro was still looking off in the distance.

"Everyone has their price, Edward, everyone. If I learned anything from owning night clubs, that was it. Everyone has their price. Whether it be a roof over their head, expensive dinners, designer clothing, most of the time it's easy to buy someone. But all Sulpicia wanted from me was my love. And I was too stupid, too hedonistic, to notice, I wanted excess and all of the time. I even had the impudence to ask Sulpicia what she wanted, what her price was. And do you know what she told me?"

I turned to him and shook my head.

"She told me all she wanted was my time, and I laughed at her," this time it was Aro shaking his head, looking down to the ground.

I let out a stream of air. I couldn't tell if Aro was contrite or dumbfounded by his wife's want.

"Who knows what would have happened, we could have still ended up divorced and her feeling like she failed at something else in her life, or hating me without question. But I broke her; soundly. It takes a mighty small man to do that to a woman. So no, Edward, I am not a man of the world, I am a man of his own tiny, little pittance of a world who now fills his time with people who just want me for what I can do for them."

Aro looks at me, searching my face, and wondering if his appalling narrative did anything to assuage my own current quandary. I am impassive, letting his cautionary tale settle into my psyche.

"I hope, for your sake at the very least, that your predicament is unlike mine."

"It is," I pause and think what I should tell Aro. Sometimes it's easier to share with a stranger than someone close, I mean what were my chances of hanging with Aro again? "I want to be with a woman who I can't be with right now," I state. It's the first time I've said anything like this and the moment it left my lips I wish I had kept quiet. What was between Bella and I, should be left between us.

"Hmm," Aro says, thoughtfully. "Is the feeling returned?"

"Yes, as best as I can tell, it is."

"I see," he says quietly, like he's a doctor looking at my chart. "Then I guess you have to decide if the risk is worth the payout."

I look down at the ground, weighing Aro's words. Risk on one side lying in the pan, the payout on the other side, Bella is not a payout, Bella is a reward. But at what cost hangs in the background.

* * *

_My phone is vibrating against the nightstand, rolling away from Bee, I look to see who's calling at half past dead hour. 2:54 AM on a Wednesday. No phone calls were good at 2:54 on any morning. Carlisle. I grab it and head into the bathroom._

"_Hey," my voice craggy._

"_Eduh, how are you?" He is trying very hard not to sound wrecked as he is._

"_Where are you?" _

"_Ime almose downstarshs, down-stairsz," he over-corrects himself._

"_I'll be down in a minute," I hang up and put on a pair track shorts and a t-shirt that says, "It's the luck of the draw," with a picture of the Suicide King on it. This one gifted from Jasper after an unfortunate trip to Reno._

_I make it down, greeting the night deskman before walking out to find Carlisle. He's sitting outside of the adjoining hotel, gripping the edge of an oversized planter, trying to remain upright._

_I walk over, putting my hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Carlisle, you okay?" I ask him with as much respect as I can muster at 3: 00 AM._

"_Edwurd, ssonn, howe are you?"_

"_Good, good, come on, I was just making a snack, come upstairs with me, yeah?"_

_Carlisle pushes himself up and I grab his shoulder, steering him to the door and up the elevator. He stands there with his head hung, awash in shame and ignobility._

_We exit and walk back to my place, I steer him to the kitchen table and go about making us grilled cheese sandwiches and some cut apple. Once complete, I sit across from him and wait until he speaks first, although I know what's coming._

_He's finished his apple and most of his sandwich, I get up to get him Coke._

"_It's almosh 13 yearz," he says._

"_So it is," this is not something I would overlook._

"_I see it, ev'ry nigh when I close my eyeses,"_

"_It's time you move past it, Carlisle," I set the drink down in front of him._

_He lets out a long expelling of air. He's frustrated, I've watched this just gnaw the ever living shit out of him for years. I know he wants to say something that will give him permission to continue in his self loathing and blame but I don't allow it._

"_Come on, Carlisle, you can take a rest in the guest room," he stands up and follows me to his bed for the night._

_I take from the drawer, pajama bottoms, towels, bar of soap and a razor. He's fastidious in his appearance each morning after a quietly disconsolate night like tonight. In the morning, Carlisle will once again don his hair-shirt. _

_Making my way back to the bed, I climb in and nuzzle up along back of Bee._

"_What happened?" Bee asks, rolling over onto her back looking up an me, bringing her hand along the stubble of my jaw._

"_Nothing, babe," I say kissing her forehead lightly._

"_Did I here someone?" She persists._

"_Yeah, it was Carlisle, he needed a place to crash." Even in the moonlight, I see the wrinkling between her eyebrows._

"_Is he okay?" She continues to probe._

"_He just needs to sleep one off."_

"_Oh," her brow remains furrowed. We both turn to our sides and spoon into one another, I reach my hand over and place it on her breast._

"_Gross, Edward, not while your Carlisle is here," I give a low chuckle, she makes it sound like it's male menstruation. I pull her back even closer to me and we rest. In the morning, Carlisle is gone, bed made and towel hanging neatly in the bathroom._

_Thursday morning, 1:43, and my phone is vibrating again, only this time, Bee is making her way down my torso with wicked little nips and licks. I look at her and shake my head, equal parts frustration and exasperation._

"_Yeah?"_

"_Mr. Cullen, this is, uh, Gustavo, uh, listen, we have, ah, your uh," Gustavo stammers, afraid by calling me at this hour and the disturbance in the lobby._

"_Yeah, Gustavo, sorry, give me a minute, I'll come down stairs."_

_Bee looks up at me, she was circling her fingertips around and over my nipples, it was having the desired affect on my body._

"_You're Carlisle is back," Bee climbs off of me, kissing my sternum, fluffs her pillows and settles herself under the covers. Somehow I went to bed with Mrs. Brady._

_And that did it, my hardness begins to wane. Going to bed with someone's mom is decidedly gross._

"_I'll be back," I say to Bee, finding a pair of pajama pants and the same t-shirt as last night._

"_Eddwerd," Carlisle is worse tonight, slumped on a bench in the lobby, the wall supporting him._

"_Come on, Carlisle, let's go upstairs," I put my arm around his waist discreetly and take him to the elevator once again._

_Tonight, I set him on the couch in the living room, he's too far gone to sit at the kitchen table. I bring him a cold cut sandwich and sit with him, he doesn't speak._

"_You gonna be okay, Carlisle?" I bring him a blanket and pillow and remove his shoes._

"_Mmm? Ah, yesh, thanksz, Edword."_

"_Good enough, 'night," I dim the lights and leave him to his personal grief._

_I make it back to Bee and the bed and find her turned to her side, facing my side of the bed, her eyes are closed. I strip away my clothes and crawl back in with her._

_I lay on my back and wonder the same thing I do every year, should I talk with Esme about this? I feel Bee's hand intertwine and lace her fingers through mine._

"_Are you okay?" Bee asks, and moves closer into my side._

"_Yeah, I'm fine," I say with non committal pleasantness. Bee remains silent for a few beats._

"_Why does Carlisle drink so much?" She leans down and kisses the top of my wrist._

_It's come to this, I had wondered how long I could go without broaching this topic, but it was time my ticket was punched._

"_He drinks because of my parents."_

"_How's that?" She asks, just so quietly because she knows this is the bad shit. _

"_It's coming up on the anniversary of the night that lead to my parent's death," Bee's grip tightens on my hand._

"_What happened?" Again she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. I take a deep breath and begin to share my history._

"_My parents were leaving a political event, something on the near West Side. That was their project, their thing, to help economically depressed neighborhoods find their voice in City Council and state and national politics, vote and build pride in the community," I felt Bee continue to hold fast to my hand._

"_They had finished up and were leaving, having parked around the corner, on the street. It was raining. Apparently all that could be seen were two figures in the darkness, the street lamps had been shot out and hadn't been repaired yet. A car came around the corner and fired two shots, one shot hitting my father and the other, my mother, the car thought my parents were rival gang members. The house where the event had been, called 911 and had to explain to them the situation, trying to ensure that their response was quick, you know, 911 is a joke in your town, kind of, uh, shit," Bee began running her thumb along top of my hand._

"_They weren't far from Cook County Hospital, and yeah, if you're gonna be shot, that's where to go," I said this as wryly as my voice would permit. I continued on. "Carlisle was the Chief of Emergency Medicine and was there that night. All he heard on the radio was that there was a trauma coming, when Carlisle saw that it was my parents being wheeled in, he called in as much backup as he could, surgeons, trauma nurses, whoever he could muster, but it didn't matter in the end. He couldn't save my father, and had to pronounce him dead, my father was never conscious after the bullet hit him. The bullet my mother sustained was lodged in her spine, she was a quadriplegic, but she was pretty far gone, she died a few months later. My parents had it written in their will, I guess, that if anything ever happened to them, that Carlisle and Esme would become my guardians, but my mother still made Carlisle promise to take care of me," Bee still grips my hand but has turned on her side, leaning into me. She remains quiet, I guess taking in all that I just spewed out._

"_Carlisle was friend's with your dad?" Bee asked._

"_Um, yeah. The story goes, they met in grade school. Carlisle was totally straight laced, studied all the time, never caused any trouble, went to church almost every day, alter boy, planned to go to Quigley and entering into the priesthood."_

"_What happened?" I knew Bee was taking my mind off of all that I just shared with her, and I was okay with that._

"_Carlisle always tells it that he was dissecting a frog in 8__th__ grade science class and knew that God wanted him to become a doctor to help people; my dad told it that puberty hit and Carlisle wanted to see girl's boobs," I laughed. When my dad said stuff like this, I was young and couldn't understand why you would give up seeing the innards of a frog to look at boobs._

"_So they remained friends for the rest of their lives?"_

"_Yeah, Carlisle always acts like he was the voice of reason and my dad was the wild one, but I know Carlisle tore it up too," I stopped and Bee looked up at me._

"_Carlisle kind of went around the bend for a few months, quietly sitting in his library getting drunk. Esme didn't know whether to be pissed off at his self indulgence or worried about him being so withdrawn. She kind of settled on anger," I laughed a little bit at this, if for nothing else then to lighten the mood. "She essentially kicked his ass out of that room by threatening to redo it in nothing but pink chintz and kitten paintings."_

_Bella laid next to me for some time, absorbing my tale. "So Carlisle never got over it?" Bee asked._

"_Oh, uh, no, he did, I guess. He left emergency medicine, went back to school and changed specialties; he's at Northwestern, a cardio-thoracic surgeon. Kind of cushy, he only operates two days a week, office hours two days a week," I trailed off._

"_But, here he is drunk on a Thursday morning. He does this a lot?" Bee still questioning._

_I don't want to get to this point, I don't want to keep answering questions or explaining my life's story, but I continue to talk. "It's usually worse around the anniversary."_

"_Oh."_

_The air is heavy between us, neither of us willing to realize how much more was just imparted outside of the words spoken._

_Bee finally removes herself from my side and I am momentarily panicked she is getting up to leave, thinking I had crossed some boundary line in our seemingly casual relationship. But I was wrong. She climbs on top of me, straddling my sides and bends slightly to take my face with both her hands and leans to kiss me. And our kisses are sweet and pure and comforting._

_I move my hands along the side of her thighs, gently stroking, feeling her securing me in her orbit. Bee stops suddenly and turns, standing there is Carlisle, listing back and forth._

"_Fuck," I say quietly. Bee climbs off of me, pulling the sheets up around her even though she's somewhat clothed._

"_Carlisle, what's up," I try to keep my displeasure at bay._

"_Chrise, Ime sorree, Edword, I didnent know you had summone in here."_

"_Here come on, you want to wash up?"_

"_Yess," he responds._

_I take him back to his guestroom and get him situated for the second night in a row. I also entertain the idea of outfitting him with a bell. When I return to my bed, Bee is on her side, trying to go to sleep._

"_I'm sorry, babe," I wrap my arm around her hip._

"_You don't have to be sorry." She doesn't say anything for a few minutes, I figure she's gone to sleep. _

"_Edward," she says very softly, "I can be here for you," and she turns around and gently kisses my neck. "Even if your Carlisle is a total cock block." _

_I smile to myself._

_

* * *

_

I go back into the bar and get myself a glass of tonic. I wish I wouldn't have taken that Pill, I wish I had a clearer head. My mind and body are not synced up; my mind wanting to decide how much I want to risk being with Bella my body doing nothing more than carnally craving her. I go back and sit with Jasper and Alice.

"Well's run dry again, by friend," Jasper lifts his glass and shakes around the melting ice cubes indicating his lack of alcohol.

"Ali?" I ask.

"I'm fine, Edward," her words are clipped. I get Jasper another drink and sit back down.

To say that this is torturous would be like calling . I try to make the best of it, while continuously rubbing my hands on top of my thighs,

"So, Edward," Alice begins, still speaking icily towards me, "how has work been?"

She went right for the jugular.

"It's," I sigh, "good. I don't think I'm going to stay after this year though." Even if I loved the job, which I most certainly do not, I wouldn't stay there, it would be like the job would always be tainted.

"And why's that?" Alice pulls out my still beating heart and laughs maniacally, the mass dripping of red goo.

"It's not something I see myself doing for the rest of my life, teaching young women, it's a rather large responsibility," I'm astounded at my ability to converse somewhat competently.

Jasper laughs. "The problem, Edward, is that you're not looking at this for all the benefits, man, that spank bank can be dividing dividends well into a 401k for withdraws," Jasper smiles with self-satisfaction. Clueless fucker.

"Jasper, what the shit is your problem?" Alice stops and looks at him, disgusted, I start to quietly laugh at the scene unfolding in front of me. "I mean, shit, I want to register you as some freaky fetishist with your appalling fascination with uniform plaid," her stare is unwavering. While I am laughing, happy that the focus is off of me, the cool of Alice's wrath is to be feared by all surrounding her, I need to tread lightly and not draw undue attention to myself.

Alice chides, "You have forever ruined me of tartan," and that, right there, is the nail in the coffin. Alice will not be stifled, and Jasper is not long for this world.

Jasper looks at her, trying to choose his best defense. He goes with flattery. "Aw, baby doll, don't deprive me of your beauty adorned and adored in Highland dress, or runway chic or burlap sack."

I watch as Alice eyes him skeptically before softening and climbing into his lap and place her arms around him in an embrace. Alice's bitty body fits between Jasper and the table, her back is to me, Jasper's obvious smugness, hidden from Alice, looks at me and winks, like he just put something over on her. Alice is correct; he is a shit. Stupid fucker. Had I not had a head filled of drug and ill-fated lust, I would have called him out on it. I do the next best thing and see this as my cue to leave with little backlash.

"I'll see you two," I start to slide out of the booth.

"Wait," Alice whines, "where are you going," she sticks her arm out expecting me to be pulled back. Sexually playful Alice and Jasper are more than uncomfortable to be party to, and I want to bear no witness to it.

"I got stuff to do, I just wanted to hang out for a bit," I answer vaguely.

And now, Alice cannot be bothered by me. "Whatever. Drop me a line when you become a full Master Mason member to the lonely hearts club." She has climbed off of Jasper's lap now and turned her bored ire towards me.

"It's been a long day, Alice," I try, weakly.

"But not so long that you couldn't abstain from rolling tonight," she states accusingly, working herself up for some ridiculous and acidic outburst.

Tonight, I am wary of Alice's temper tantrums, my disconcerted mind not having enough space to placate Alice's demanding nature. "Fuck off, Alice," I say quiet enough not to make a scene, I turn to leave but not before I see her eyes darken and turn away from me.

I have no intention of making a scene, I walk out, not in a huff but with a normal gait and after I step outside and pull out another cigarette, Jasper is beside me. I don't need him part of this familial melee. Jasper doesn't pick up on my temperament.

"What the fuck was that shit, you fucking douche?" What the fuck? I've never seen this side of Jasper before.

"I could ask the same of your girl in there." I steadily reply.

Jasper's look goes from fury to confusion. His ability to compartmentalize his reactions being a talent. He pauses for a moment or two, assessing something.

"You need to work some shit out with Alice."

"While I appreciate your concern for my sister, I really don't need you interfering in this, it doesn't involve you."

"I don't even know what I'm not supposed to be involved in. What the fuck is going on with you? We never see you and when we do, you're a fucking griping prick," this is a pure statement.

I sigh. "Jasper, I'm really not in the state of mind to do this tonight," I say, warily.

Jasper remains quiet for a bit before speaking again. "You and Alice need to get back on track."

I can't argue with him, he's absolutely correct. I like being with Alice. Even if she weren't my sister, or maybe, despite the fact that she's my sister, I like hanging out with her.

"Yeah, thanks." I turn and go back into the bar.

"Alice," I'm sitting on the bench seating, next to her, "I'm sorry."

She won't look at me, preferring to play with the stir stick in the cocktail. I wait for her to work out if she wants to respond to me or not. Jasper has remained away.

"You're keeping something from me, Edward, I know this. I don't feel connected to you at all anymore," she pauses before adding, "and I miss you." She says this without looking at me, preferring to focus on her drink. Gone is her sass and childish temperament replaced with the seldom witnessed timidity of being a forgotten adolescent.

"Ali," shit, I don't know what to say, I avoid the part where I'm keeping something from her. "I miss you too," I try to think of something else to say but am at a loss. I know Alice is manipulating me but let her do it. "You know, next weekend's Halloween, we could do something then, if you want? Do you wanna go up North? We could leave after school on Friday and drive up, come back Sunday?"

She sits, considering my offer. "Yeah, let's do that, we haven't been up there for forever. Leaves will have all changed though, we missed it this year."

"Yeah, I know, Esme said it wasn't that pretty anyway, we didn't miss anything. We'll have fun, though, yeah?" Alice takes my hand and squeezes it, hard.

"Yeah, we'll go. You mind if I ask Jasper?" I shake my head. "You know, you could bring someone too, " I don't think bringing Bella would be greeted with any amount of enthusiasm. And I shudder at the thought of Jasper having someone else to add to his rich fantasy life.

"No, it'll just be the three of us," I bump my shoulder to hers.

"Okay," Alice says and after another minute of sitting there, I stand up, getting ready to leave. "Edward," she says, looking at me fully for the first time since I sat down next to her, "if you ever tell me to _fuck off_, again, we're done," and she speaks no lies. I am suddenly overcome by – everything, and need to leave, lest I embarrass myself.

"I'll see ya, Alice, I'll call you Thursday," I bend down to give her a kiss and tell her I love her, she tells me the same and it gives me an aching warmth in my chest. I beat feet out of there, passing Jasper outside, he raising his chin at me and I do the same.

I walk down and turn into the alley, tears threatening my eyes. I take some time and calm myself down, I don't know if it's the E or the past couple of months that have left me feeling beleaguered. Everything has been so overwhelming lately. Knowing I should move on from Bella but not wanting to, or having the heart to, and here I am now, avoiding the invitation she put forth tonight, afraid of consequences and future.

I stand there, pulling another cigarette out from that pack, the strike of the match offering a brief warmth and glow before I flick my wrist and drop the burned out stub of cardboard. Pulling out my phone I reply to her text.

**-May I see you?**

I type each word out as I know Bella hates text talk.

And I wait for some sort of reply. My phone vibrates a couple minutes later with a call.

"Hey."

"Hey," she says back. "I miss you. Can you climb?"

That was unexpected. "Can I what?"

"Did you take the pill? Can you climb? Where are you?" She seductively rifles these question at me.

"I'm at Riptide. Has everyone left?" The party would have probably still been going on, it was barely midnight.

"Mostly. They all wanted to go with Lauren and watch her get her labia pierced or some Glee sing-along, I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention.

That was most certainly the last thing I ever wanted to hear. "Bella, honey," I said this more that the slightest bit of sarcasm, "I will never get hard again if you mention things like Lauren and labia in the same sentence."

She laughed, a throaty, closed mouth sound.

"I miss you," she says to me, no joking, no apprehension, just pure and honest.

"May I come see you, tonight?"

I think I heard her say, "guh."

"Yes, I want you here."

"I'm walking to get a cab."

"Stay on the line with me, please?"

I get a cab, give the driver Bella's address and ask him to stop around the corner from her house. I see him look at me from the rear view mirror and I know he's thinking I'm fucking around on someone. It's sort of funny actually, considering I have Bella on the phone telling me she's touching herself in naughty ways, and calling me, Sir, and laughing at the triteness of her words.

"Babe, I'm here, you wanna come downstairs and let me in?"

"I'm serious, I can't let you in the front door, you gotta climb."

"I'm not fuckin' monkey here, how do you want me to get in?"

"Here, go in the side gate," she gives me the code to enter.

"Over on the side of the house is the fire escape, pull it down and climb up to the second floor, the window opens to the hallway."

"Why can't we just go to my place?"

"I can't, I told you, Emmett and Rosalie are still here, I told Emmett to try and get the hangers on out of here, he thinks Jake is coming up here."

I bristle at the sound of another guy.

"Who's Jake?"

"No on, come on."

"You know how loud this is going to be when I try and pull it down?"

"Come on, Cullen, man up."

"Whatever. I'm going radio silent now." And I turn the phone off. What the fuck? who still has fire escapes? I don't even know how to work one of these things, it's all pulled up and about 6 feet above me. And then I hear her giggling above me. Cripes, it goes straight to my dick, it's like that first drop of a roller coaster excitement overriding any fear, ignorant bliss.

"You're not helping," I say.

"Quit being such a pussy," the whip cracks.

"How the fuck does this work?" I feel stupid, it always looks so easy in the movies.

"Jump up and pull the ladder down, then climb up it, just pull the ladder back up so it doesn't look like someone used it." Oh sure, easy.

I jump and on my second try am able to grab the first rung and pull it down. It's loud enough to wake dead cats. But I complete my task and make it up to the open window and climb in. And Bella's standing there, and all the wrongness of this situation ebbs away from me.

"Come on," she takes my hand and walks quickly, taking me to her bedroom, she closes the door behind her, but does not lock it, I look at her, then the keyhole, then back to her.

"This house is older than the last time the Cubs won a World Series, it's a wonder this door even closes all the way, she says, shrugging her shoulder. She leans against it like she can keep any invaders away by simple will and her delicate frame.

We stop our banter and look at one another. I speak first.

"We can't be like a normal couple."

"I don't care."

"This could end very badly, for both of us," I begin to move closer to her.

"It doesn't matter to me."

"I can't stop and start this again, this is it, if we stop again, then, that's it."

"Of course."

"You can't keep secrets from me," I move closer to her.

"I'll tell you anything you ask."

"What do you want from me, Isabella?" I can't dictate everything.

"I don't want you to feel guilty for this," fair enough, she knows me better than I thought, I nod my head.

"Do you want to be with me, Isabella," I ask, letting her name spill from my mouth, sticky and sweet. I'm now standing in front of her.

"Desperately so," and without another word, she reaches up and laces her arms around my neck and I bend to kiss her, the near last two months, slipping away without another thought.

* * *

**A/N **Thank you to the sundae spoon sized amount of people who have read and favorited and review this, honestly, it makes my whole day when I see something in my email, and I write chatty thank you notes in reply to my reviews, whether you want them or not!

I posted an outtake from Chapter One, Bella's point of view, you can link on it through my profile if you're interested.

A special thank you to PinkIndeed, who has become a lovely ffn friend, with her sweet emails and LMAO's and bringing me into the 1990's with IMing, has been a nice benefit to the debauched little story I'm writing! Check out, **Beautiful Girl 'Cailin Alainn'** on ffn!


	8. Chapter 8

Twilight belongs to Stephenie Myer

Incorrect verb tenses, grammatical and spelling errors are my forte.

As before, italicized is a flashback.

* * *

Chapter Eight

* * *

"_I'm sorry, babe, I can't come over tonight," Bee said to me over the phone, I pouted, I hadn't seen her in a couple of days. "I have to finish my project, class is ending this week."_

"_When am I going to see these photographs that have taken you away from me too many nights."_

"_Oh, you're sweet, but whining doesn't suit you," she said softly too me, I could hear the smile in her voice._

"_Don't you want to see me?" I continued to act like spoiled boy who wasn't being allowed to play with his toys._

"_Of course I do, but I have priorities, there're only so many hours in the day."_

"_I'm not a priority?" This was changing into uncomfortable territory. Bee avoided labeling our time spent together, _relationship_, was a word of taboo._

_Not surprisingly, she sighed. "Of course you are," I heard her footsteps as she walked somewhere. "I just want to do well in this class."_

"_You won't even show me any of your pictures," I paused, considering my words before continuing on. "I don't understand why you're so secretive, you don't have to hide anything from me."_

"_Everybody has something to hide," she said quickly and sharply._

_What the fuck is she going on about?_

"_What does that mean?" I asked, keeping my voice even, not wanting the unease and frustration to lace through._

"_Nothing. I'm sorry, I'm just a little stressed about this," she sighed once more before speaking again. "How about I come over, it probably won't be until midnight or so."_

"_That's fine, I'll let Gustavo know to let you up," I was satiated now that I knew I would have a fix of Bee in a few hours._

_When she arrived, she was tired, indigo rimmed her eyelids, and she looked beautiful, with her hair knotted around those pencils, an old button down oxford shirt and worn Bermuda shorts, a ratty pair of Vans on her feet._

"_When am I going to meet this photographic mistress of yours?" I said into her ear after wrapping my arms around her._

"_Oh, um, that's not going to happen," I pulled back looking at her, she wasn't meeting my eyes._

"_What's up?"_

"_Nothing, I just, uh, won't be having my photos in the show, I guess they weren't accepted," she trailed off, still not meeting my gaze. I didn't want to push it._

"_Fools," I said and we went to my room. I didn't know what was going on, but I knew she was bothered by something. I hoped it wasn't me._

_Two nights later, Bee again wasn't at my place. She said she had to go to a reception for the selected photos, but it was small, no one else was bringing a date, she said she would be over, _not too late_. Was I only a _date_? Insecurity did not set well with me. I let it go, hoping with the end of this class we could return to normal. School and work would be starting in a few weeks, and I didn't want to waste time arguing, instead, just letting things happen, as Bee would often say._

_Still, it bothered me that either she didn't want me to see her photographs or that they weren't selected, of course my girl had talent, her prof must be blind not to see that, I reasoned._

_I called Alice for directions to the student union at SAIC, she asked what I was going to do there, I said my art collection was missing photography and was looking to expand into it. I know Alice didn't buy this for a moment, obviously, a weak attempt on my behalf._

"_She must be some kind of girl," Alice replied, her tinkling laugh lasting until I ended the call._

_I made my way over to the union one afternoon when Bee told me she was going shopping with a friend. She had promised me lace delights when she returned. I felt guilty for not telling her about my plans, but I kept it to myself._

_I went to the union and walked around giving the works on display a once over, I didn't come across any cards listing Bee Dwyer, as an artist. I didn't bother to read the about the theme of the exhibition._

_But, I looked around again, giving each set of works on display their due. One person had painted their photographs with encaustic paint, those were kinda cool; someone else had taken, as their artists statement read, slide film and developed it as negative film to show the duality of life, I thought that was a stretch; and someone else had taken their photographs and red yarn outlined each portrait, I didn't know how I was to take that, and with no artist statement to explain it to me, I moved on. Then, I came to the plainest set of images, in comparison to the others. It was 24 black and white photographs from the city throughout the day. It was a path, from Michigan Avenue down to the river, across Wacker, over the train tracks and ending at a plain door. Half the images were going to the door, half of them were going away from the door. 24 images, one for each hour of the day. They showed the morning rush of commuters, the afternoon lull of street people being ignored by passersby, the half face of a man, staring into the photographer's lens, his blurred image edging the frame, the empty streets with each shade of the stoplight lit due to the long exposure. There was a child who had lost his balloon while hanging over the banister to look at a boat, a cop talking amiable with a woman wearing a short skirt._

_I didn't know why I was drawn to these pictures, they weren't flashy and showy, certainly not like some of the others, individually they weren't remarkable, there was a melancholy to them, laced with a hope, bringing the dark to light and back again. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. I looked, there was no statement, just listing, I.M. Swan as the artist._

_I left there and walked back home. It wasn't until that evening that I thought about Bee's words,_ there's only so many hours in the day.

* * *

"You want to be with me _desperately so_? What makes it _desperately so_?" I was teasing now. I wanted to draw this moment out, enjoy the bit of E running through my body and the sumptuous feel of once again, having her hands on my skin.

She looked at me, assessing my tone, I imagine. As usual, though, what happened next was unexpected. The pleasure and weightlessness from moments earlier dissipated.

"When I told you we had to stop seeing one another," she tells me in a slow and low voice as she lightly brings her lips up, just barely brushing them along the side of my neck, "I went home and cried. I lay on my bed, burying my face in my pillow, and cried for the loss of you. I cried for all of the trouble I caused because I was too blind to realize that this summer was more than just good fucking," she pulled back a bit to look at me for confirmation of her statement. I swallowed thickly and briefly nodded my head while keeping my eyes pinned on hers. My attention was rapt.

"I tried to be ascetic in my approach of disengaging myself from you; I threw myself into my school work, athletics, volunteering, my photography, whatever I could do to fill the time," she continued on with her low voice and gentle brushes of her lips, it being in direct contrast to what she was sharing with me, and yet, my body betrayed her sorrowful words. She held my arms to my side with each of her hands, having moved me against the door. "But none of it worked, you held complete sovereignty over all that I did. You ruled my mind and my body. I'll bet you didn't know that, did you?" I barely shook my head at this question, my eyes riveted to hers. She had taken her hands from my wrists and brought them up to slowly unbutton my shirt.

"I realized that this wasn't healthy," and she, so temptingly, brought her fingers down my torso with each release of my shirt button. "But, I would touch myself, at night, remembering our days and nights together; the way your kisses felt against my skin, or the way your touches made my body sing, the sound of your voice, the brush of your hair, the steadiness of your footfalls when we ran together, the scent of you after we had sex or after you stepped out of the shower, I thought of all of this, each night, to bring myself off," she finally pushed my shirt from my shoulders, letting it fall to the ground.

"I tried to move on, you see," she leant forward to kiss my pectorals, her fingertips again ghosting over my flesh. "I tried to make a normal life for myself, to move on from you," she kissed the inside of my forearm. I wondered what she meant by this.

"Were you with someone else?" The question escaped from my mouth, unbidden. While it would have been in her every best interest to have moved on from me, I couldn't deny the sting it would hold. She looked up, holding my gaze, feeling my intensity.

"No," she whispered out, shaking her head gently, back and forth. "No," she repeated, she moved to rest her cheek to my bare chest. "I was so disappointed by my actions, and my dishonesty. It was a dark, dark few days there," she smiled sadly as she drew my wrist up to her lips and kissed it tenderly. "I was all sorts of fucked up. I mean, I was taking OxyContin mixed with some of Phil's Adderall," she shook her head at this; "it was a speedy euphoria, completely unnerving, I would not suggest giving that a go. I thought I could ride the Aurora Borealis to the bottom of the ocean on a gum drop then write a Moby Richard tome about my adventures, all while floating on a cream puff, but crying the entire time," she sort of laughed at this, but I found it chilling. She was too slight and too delicate, to be depending on that shit to get her through her day. I wanted to tell her this, regardless if it would be hypocritical by my own drug use.

I went to take her hands in mine, but with light force, she held them down. She was paying penance, figuratively prostrating herself out in front of me. I wanted to offer her absolution straight away, but she needed to continue, to make sure she had fully outlined her course of sins before she would accept any type of atonement. It was ridiculous, of course, but I knew she would hear none of my arguments to the contrary.

"What happened?" After my question prodded her on, she stood on her toes and gave my lips a closed mouth kiss, just as tenderly as the others.

"I took some guy I knew, behind closed doors with me. I really tried to jump off that cliff and into the cold, chopping waters to drown the memory of you from my system. It just didn't work the way I wanted it to. I let this guy kiss me, but I saw your eyes looking at me. I was going to fuck him," she said _fuck_ with obvious disdain, "instead, I heard your voice, and it was whispering those sweet nothings in my ear to coax out my climax. I had this guy's tongue trying to gain entry into my mouth and I felt you pulling me closer to you while we spooned into each other, sleeping," she traced around my nipple with the tip of her finger. "I pushed this guy off of me, he called me a cock tease, spitting it out like I was trash," my body stiffened, and I again shook my head slightly. Bella pulled her index finger down the center of my torso, it spreading shivers along my spine.

We remained quiet while the words swirled around in my head. She kept touching me, keeping me in the path of her circuit.

"Edward," she measured out each word, "was there any one else for you?"

"No baby, no one else for me," at this, she went back to stroking my chest and abs, her touch overtaking the E floating through our systems.

"I know we should sit and talk through this all night and tell each other that we shouldn't be doing this because it's against the rules and it's not right and all such predictability," Bella said, forthrightly. "But, I don't care about that, this, it's what I want, it's how I feel," Bella spilled out the second part of her statement like water overtaking a levee.

At this, she brought her face to mine. Gone were the teasing and the strained touches, she put her fingers through my hair at the nape of my neck and licked my lips with her tongue. I was wrapped up in the beautiful ache of it all.

"Promise me this won't hurt, promise me it'll all be okay," she pleaded. I was afraid of the desperation she had, or the reassurance she needed.

I couldn't say anything; I knew I could never make that promise. She knew this too. I wondered at her desperation, her normally even handling and cool confidence was off kilter and I didn't understand why. She moved her head back down to my chest and hummed, settling instead to listen to the steady beat of my heart, bringing her arms around my waist.

We made our way to her bed, not tearing off clothes or grappling at the other, but with Bella taking my hand and guiding me there. Her bed was gigantic, then I looked around her bedroom and it too, was enormous. I sat, with my legs stretched out, my vision being drawn to the facing wall. There, across from her bed, painted, was a mural, was a trompe l'oeil of a meadow. I wanted to walk into it and lie down on the lushness of the flowering ground cover, be surrounded by the flora, listening to the fauna, hearing the trickle of the little creek, the wind rustling the surrounding trees.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Bella asked, slipping her hand on my thigh, interrupting my thoughts.

"Yeah," I turned my head to look at her.

"It's real, that meadow."

"Mmm, where's it at?" I asked her lazily. I really just wanted to be curled around her, feeling her back to my chest. I stood up and started to unbuckle my belt, kicking my shoes and socks off and removing my jeans.

Bella watched me and I watched her watching me. Her mouth was open, just slightly while I took my pants off, I heard the faintest of inhalations from her. I cracked a smile, the past two months had not cooled our physical draw. She was already in a tank top and panties, I pulled the duvet back and climbed in, pulling her against me.

"Tell me about this meadow," I whispered in her ear.

"It's the stuff of Romantic Poets," she said, distractedly. "It's about the only thing I miss from that place," she said quieter, flatter. She continued, "I know there're little pockets of nature and tranquility in and around the city, but it's like you always know you're a few feet away from the din of urban life. Up there, though," she paused, shaking her head just the slightest, "insects and chirping are the loudest of all."

I moved her hair away from her neck, bringing my lips to her ear lobe, taking it lightly between my teeth for a moment. "What else about this meadow," my hot breath pillowed back at me as I continued to whisper to her. I had brought my hand to the column of her splendid neck and felt her strained swallow of air, my mouth proceeded to explore around her hairline, the spicy Moroccan bazaar scent of her shampoo returning to comfort my senses.

"Its," I heard her breaths shorten as the pointed tip of my tongue traced her external jugular, "beauty has no words," was her rasping reply. I smiled, happy that I still had an affect on her.

I rolled so I was prone to the bed, pulling her on top of me. I looked at her, her arms moved up my stomach and chest, her fingers splayed as if to feel as much of me as possible all at once. I leaned up, and began to trace her lips like she had done moments earlier to me. Her skin tasted of contentment, I felt the comfort that had been missing these many weeks.

I brought my hand up, underneath her shirt, catching her nipple, running my thumb and index fingers, rolling it erect. She paused to remove the cotton cover of her chest and I proceeded by bringing both hands to her breasts, she hummed her approval at my actions and she bent down to kiss my lips.

"Edward?" She said into my mouth.

"Yes, Bella," I said dragging my tongue over the 'Ls' of her name.

"Did you miss this?"

I sat up as she moved to straddle me. "Every day and night, _desperately so_."

"Mmm, good, so did I, ever so _desperately so_." She had closed her eyes as if in thought. "All of this."

Then she reopened her eyes and stared at me for what seemed like days and I wondered what thoughts were playing in her mind, wishing I could tap into them, surely that would be magical. There was a tiny light in one of the far reaching edges of her bedroom creating an aureole around her crown, like a sacred art fresco, like a religious icon, so delicate that too many exhales of carbon dioxide would harm her.

"What are you thinking?" I wanted to call her my divine being, my angel but stopped myself from sounding too saccharine, too mawkish.

She sat for another moment before speaking. "I'm wondering how you are so beautiful. _Your_ beauty is without description. All of you, not just the parts that can be seen. _You're_ the creation of Romantic Poets. _You_ walk in beauty, like the night."

I looked at her, stilled by her words and quotation, too stunned and embarrassed by her verbal expressions. I watched as some tears started to slip away from her eyes, the pads of my fingertips brushing them gone.

"Hey, hey, hey," I said to her, quietly. "Come on, why are you crying?"

"I just want to do this right this time, and there's everything stacked against us. I've put you in such a terrible predicament, this can't end well."

"We'll do the best we can."

"I hope so."

I couldn't stop myself, I took her face in my hands and kissed away her tears, kissed the apples of her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, along her jaw line, ghosted over her lips to the column of her neck, along her collarbone, her shoulders. Then she stopped me by bringing her hand underneath my chin.

"Kiss me, please," and she leaned in and slightly opened her mouth to meet mine, and within a fraction of a particle of time, she had bewitched me again. Her tongue danced with mine, playing coy and teasing, then leading the tango, I was all but putty in her pliable hands, I eased us down so she was flat against my chest, our breathing syncing up like the sound of cicadas on a summer night.

She moved her kisses down my chest, licking my nipples then proceeding further set by the path of my sternum.

"No, babe," I say, lifting her head up, tonight shouldn't be about me. She had gone out on a limb and rekindled this, she was feeling insecure of our future, I wanted to assuage her fears physically since I was unable to do it verbally. I rolled us so she was on her back, and kissed down the center of her stomach towards her ambrosia.

She squirmed the closer I got to her belly button, the equator of her body, she was anxious while I continued my travels further south. The mere sounds of her hums and breaths urging and inspiring my voyage, wanting to scale and plant my flag over ever inch of country I came in contact with. When I reached her clitoris I thought I would lose her to the fighting passion overcoming both of us. I gently lapped at her folds, taking in her special taste and scent. Even if this were for only one night, I would mark it in my mind, tattooed forever to my psyche. I moved her legs over my shoulders, digging my fingers into the sides of her thighs and vaguely hoped the marks I was leaving wouldn't be noticed in the changing room for her gym class.

Hhm, hhmm, she thrummed out, it was a musical beauty. When she came, she rolled up on her head, arching her back, gripping her breasts while I slipped her legs off of my shoulders, kissing my way back up to the cavity of her collar bone and neck.

I brought my leg between hers and she hummed again in want.

"Please, Edward," was all she said.

I leaned over her and began kissing her nipples again, enjoying the fact they were still heightened from her pleasure.

"What do you want, Bella," again enjoying the two L's of her name, I continued to lavish in her breasts.

"You're wicked, you naughty boy," she was playful now, I was happy for the shift.

"You think I'm wicked?" I said with hot breath in her ear.

"Yes," she was becoming breathless, I felt her rubbing her thighs together to assuage her need. She dragged her fingernails through my hair, along my scalp. "Give me what I want," she demanded like a overindulged girl. I enjoyed the dirty Bella I held captive beneath me.

"You think you're the only one who wants this," I spoke along her neck.

"I think you're teasing me now," she was now scratching down my back. Delicious torture for us both.

"Always so greedy, such a dirty girl you are," I looked at her and laughed lightly, a Cheshire smile leveled at me, her eyes twinkling of mischief in the soft light.

"Yeah, you think I'm durty?" She dragged out the last word with a British accent, I didn't know where it came from but it was nothing short of flammable.

I positioned myself on my knees in front of her, teasing the tip of my cock along her folds and to her blooming bud. I raised her leg up to my shoulder and she brought her other leg up and I entered her, I think my cock let out a sigh of relief, happy to be free of my manual strokes. I felt her hug around me, I slid in and out of her, while she begged for me to increase the speed, I finally stopped pulling her on a string and built up the friction, and at this angle I was able to hit that special spot that made Bella unravel from the inside out.

We didn't last very long, my body being unused to the intensity and desire that was being fulfilled after too long of an absence, but I held off as best I could, she held tight to my forearms while she crested, releasing high pitched cries of fulfillment, I gave a few more thrusts before I steadied myself and came just as hard. I moved out of her, both of us exhausted from everything, both of us inhaling deeply to fill our blood with much needed oxygen.

"Fuck, I just rode the wave of mutilation on that one," Bella said, resting the back of her hand against the perspiration moistening her forehead. She got off the bed to clean herself up, but we both stopped moving in every way when there was a knock on the door.

She briefly looked at me, her features arranged blankly by the flip of a switch.

"Bella?" I heard some guy scream whisper into the door.

I watch as Bella silently says, _fuck_, and shakes her head. She walks to her closet and pulls out a robe and ties it around herself hoping to trap the scent of our coupling within the thick cover of the terry cloth. She then slips on a pair scrunchy socks and shuffles to the door. I imagine she was trying to give the appearance of having been awoken. The state of her mussed hair could go either way, sex or active sleep.

Bella pulls the door open only wide enough for her face to fill the latitude.

"What's up Em?" Bella was cool as can be.

"What's going on in here, you got someone up here with you, dirty girl," fuck, how long had he been standing out there?

"Shut up Em, I hate it when you call me that." That made me feel only slightly less worse.

"What lucky fucker's up here with you?"

Bella switch positions at this, she came out strong. "What makes you think I have someone up here? I can be loud when I touch myself, did you ever think of that?"

She was a durty girl… If I wasn't gnawing on bricks right now, I would be equal parts proud of her giving as good as she gets and turned on by the incendiary images she had just placed in my brain.

"Shit, that was you touching yourself? Yeah, I have thought about it," he said. I had to give this guy credit, his lack of guile was almost amusing, although, less so since it was about Bella, but still, this stupid fucker was in awe.

"Emmett, I hate to interrupt your impromptu and unseemly fantasies, but why are you invading my _special time_?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry," I pictured this oaf shaking his head and dried corn kernels sounding and rattling about. "Is there any more of that Green River? I got a new drink I'm gonna try, Green River and Goldschlager, I'm calling them, 'Golden Streams,' clever, right?" It's like I could hear him waggling his eyebrows up and down.

I know Bella was trying to work this one out; I was too, for that matter.

"Emmett," she said in a tone that would be given to the child who ate paste, "you know what a golden stream is, right? I mean, you're in college and all."

"Yeah, I know, but it's funny, like sex on the beach, screaming orgasm, afternoon delight," he trailed off, I imagine at seeing Bella wrinkling her brow.

"Dream big, Emmett. If there's any left it's either in the fridge or in the closet, help yourself," and she went to close the door before Emmett spoke again.

"Hey, Bella? Next time you take some _special time_, can I sit outside your door?" And kept there like Bella was going to extend an open invitation.

"Sure thing Emmett, maybe I'll ask your girlfriend, Rosalie if she wants to hang out in your own little lounge of depravity, too."

"Shit, now I'm thinking about you and Ro-,"

"Yeah, you can stop right there, homie."

"Good night, Bella."

"Good night, Emmett."

She thankfully closed the door and dropped her robe, pulled off her socks and came over to my side of the bed.

"Let's take a shower," she took my hand and led me to her bathroom. Alice was right, it was fairly spectacular. Completely unmodern, the tub being big and claw footed, her shower separate of the bath, the green zebra wallpaper and the green, obviously, hand glazed tiles, made this bathroom a place where you would want to build forts in the empty tub and lean up against the door with a diary setting on propped knees, spilling out all of your crushes and hopes for the future.

After we had washed each other, stopping often to lean in to kiss, we dried off, and Bella magically produced a pair of fresh boxers. I looked at her in question.

She suddenly looked shy, or embarrassed, I couldn't tell which. "I missed your stuffy lawyer underwear, I went to Brooks Brothers, I had to ask this guy who was like 786 years old, where their underwear was, the guy looked at me like, _it's covering my bum, that's where the underwear is. _ I think I walked out of that place with a stiff beehive hairdo, and a red Chanel suit, ready to become a member of the GOP."

There it was, this night complete, I got a rant and ramble, I smiled to her and looked at the t-shirt she had slipped on, it read, _Where in the world is Jimmy Hoffa_, and it had a _Waldo _red and white striped hat sitting in the end zone of Giants Stadium, apparently Carlisle's t-shirt collection had traveled another stop.

"Come on, I'm whipped," Bella said, pulling back the covers for us to climb into her bed, she situated herself against me before pulling the downy heavy duvet back over us. My hand wrapped around her waist stroking the skin above her panties, I felt the vibration of her hum against my chest, I leaned a kiss into her hair.

"I'm happy," she said.

"So am I," and with that we fell into a silent and stilled REM cycle, together.

"...Bella..."

"…Bucket…"

"…Green puke…"

"…Stupid ass…"

"…What the…"

"Holy.

Fuck."

I heard Bella take an unsteady gasp inward, and I gripped impossibly hard to Bella.

* * *

**A/N **I'm sorry, I wasn't going to go there, and look, I did, someone had to catch them sooner or later, otherwise it would get dull, I just cut out the uncomfortable suspense of waiting for it to happen.

I made up Emmett's Golden Stream, in real life I think it would be a most disgusting drink.

Okay, to the buttercup amount of people who read this, review it, favorite/alert it, PM me if you know what 1980's movie had Bella's line,** "…**it's what I want, it's how I feel…" hint, it had a great soundtrack. If you want, I'll send you a teaser for the next chapter.

I put a link on my profile for the Pixie's, Wave of Mutilation, someone made a nice video of it, Edward, with his stuffy film tastes, would approve.

For those outside of the US or unfamiliar, Jimmy Hoffa was a Union leader who mysteriously disappeared in the mid 1970's, it is the stuff of urban legend that he's buried in the end zone of Giants Stadium.

Continued thanks to PinkIndeed, she's awesome, her story, Beautiful Girl 'Cailin Alainn', updated this week, give it a go!

My blood is anemic for your reviews, let me know what you think!


	9. Chapter 9

Stephenie Myer is the Twilight owner, I own grammatical errors, and bad typing skills (it took me three times to tap out this sentence.) As before, flashbacks are in italics.

Location note, 26th and California is the Cook County jail.

We left these two being caught in bed together.

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

And there she stood, in her über-Barbie veneer, Rosalie-fucking-Hale. Standing there, her mouth hanging open like a gaping fucking chasm.

"What the fuck is going on?" Rosalie Hale had moved from shock to accusatory without taking a breath.

"Rose, it's not what you think," Bella said, weakly. Of course it's what Rosalie Hale thinks, and what every other person in the galaxy would be thinking it was. It's not like this was some special tutor session. At 10:30 on a Sunday morning. In Bella Swan's massive bed. Under the covers. In my boxers. With my hand wrapped around her waist. Fuck, if this wasn't going to end very badly.

"Really, Bella? I don't think it can be too many other things from what I'm thinking," Rosalie Hale verbally echoing my thoughts.

Bella, now sitting up in the bed with her legs stretched out in front of her, bent her head and rubbed her eyes. I didn't know where to put my gaze, I actively averted it from Miss Hale's line of sight. I wanted to take Bella's hand in mine, and transport ourselves to the middle of her mural, and lay down in the beautiful meadow and let all of the drama and other shit just float away and down a stream. That wasn't going to happen, though.

"Rose, you said something about vomit?" Bella countered, her irritation evident.

"Oh, shit, yeah, Emmett's sick."

"There's a shocker, with such stellar drink combo, really," Bella mumbled, not so quietly, and threw the covers back from the bed, Rosalie Hale did not cover her eyes quick enough and caught a look of me in my boxers.

"Bella, warn someone when you're going to show them her teacher's," she sneered the next word, "junk. What the fuck," being a prick because Rosalie had stormed in here and broken our bliss, I wanted to tell her to watch her language, needless to say, I didn't.

"Whatever, like I haven't had to see Emmett's sausage and meatballs in my line of sight before," Bella again mumbled, I hoped Rosalie missed this comment, but from the fury present on her features, she'd caught every word of it.

"What'd you say?" Rosalie Hale taunted.

"I've seen Emmett enough times parading around in his briefs to get a pretty good view of him, that's what I'm saying," Bella replied, leveling her icy voice and stare towards Rosalie.

"Alright, ladies, let's fix up Emmett then we'll talk about this," I said, leaning over the bed to grab my jeans.

"Come on, Rose, there's a bucket and stuff in the laundry room," Bella said with resignation taking Rosalie's sleeve.

"Why don't you put some pants on, Bell," Rose said, still breathing out cold little puffs of angered air.

"My fucking house…" yeah, it was a good thing I was the only one who heard Bella's mumbling this time.

I was getting up to leave with Bella when she turned on me.

"You, stay here," I sat down like a dog being hit on its ass for chewing on the chair leg.

* * *

_**-Whr r u**_

_**-Darkroom**_

_**-All nite?**_

_**-Probably**_

_**-Will i c u**_

_**-Do you want to**_

_**-ALWAYS**_

_**-Because of me or my body :)**_

_**-Am I bad if I say both**_

_**-Hmmm**_

_I waited for her reply, desperate to see her. She had spent most of the week working on her project and I was lonely for her. Didn't she understand this? I knew I was being a douche not wanting to have to share her time, but I had become happily accustomed to having her with me, I didn't tire of her presence or the time we spent together._

_Still no reply. I'll wait two more minutes. I stared at the clock on my phone, two minutes crept by ever, so, slowly. Ticktockticktock. Was I getting needy?_

_Apparently I was, I texted her back._

_**-R u gonA 2 answr me**_

_**-Still thinking it over**_

_**-Dont be cruel**_

_**-Oh you sad little boy**_

_**-Tryin not 2b**_

_I waited for her to reply but none came. Nothing for 15 minutes. I wanted to see her, if even for a minute, I left and caught a cab to the Art Institute, the school entrance. The cabbie dropped me off on Columbus Drive and I stood outside the entrance and pulled out my phone to text Bee._

_**-Can u meet me outside c drv**_

_It was a couple of minutes before she replied._

_**-Um ok in 5**_

_It was a hot night, muggy and thick and no breeze, not even off the lake. I was suffocating in my t-shirt that Alice had dropped off to me earlier, she thanked me for being the inspiration of it, not wanting to share my summer of Bee, I made a show of humorous indifference to it. On the front it said, _**When men sleep around they're Romeos / Lotharios / Don Juans**_ and on the back,_** When women do, they're sluts**_. If Alice could see me now, she'd take it back and give me one that probably would say, _**Keep the home fires burning**_._

"_Hi," Bee said, startling me from staring off at the passing cars._

"_I, uh, hi," was I nervous? "I hope you don't mind, you wanna to take a walk?"_

"_Sure, just a short one though, I have lots to do."_

"_Over to there okay?" I asked taking her in the direction of Buckingham Fountain._

"_Yeah, ugh, maybe the spray will cool me off, it's fucking Hades out here," Bee said billowing her shirt in front of her to create a breeze._

_We walked, holding hands, not saying anything. I was lost in the thought of wondering why everyday with Bee made me more desperate to be with her. I had been playing with this for a few days, how little I knew about her, she had told me only the smallest bits and pieces of her life. I mean, I knew about the car accident, which was a big deal, but I didn't know what happened, if she was with someone or not, how long she took to heal, if she would always have the constant dull ache in her leg. But those were all questions centered around one event, what were the other things that had gone on in her life? Had I not been open about my life either? I mean, I told her about my parents and Esme and Carlisle and Alice. She knew I graduated from Northwestern, I played music, but all of this stuff was surface, at what point was a good point to look behind the curtain?_

"_What's on your mind, Edward?" Bee asked me, giving shake to our joined hands._

_I thought about how I wanted to answer it, how I wanted to tailor my reply, but instead of choosing my words carefully, I spewed out my initial response, "Do you see a future with us?" _

_Bee stopped, we were near the fountain now, it was the color of a fading harvest moon, the spray dotting our skin with moisture._

_She didn't turn to look at me._

"_Edward, you of all people know that everything can change in a moment. Wouldn't," she paused her, leaning her head back to think what she was going to say next. "Rather, can't we just enjoy the now?_

_I thought about what she was asking, to blithely go along fucking each other and going out, but not making any effort for it to be more, I didn't want to be a pleasant time filler, a fucking folded marked page of a book in the story of her life._

"_What if I want a commitment?" I was getting tired of these cryptic responses from her._

"_But, what if I don't?" She replied immediately, and continued to look off into the distance.

* * *

_

She was gone a long time. After I made her size of Greenland bed, I sat there with my hands in my lap. It was torturous. I finally looked around her room. It was ridiculous it was so large. Her mural of the meadow was life sized and there, sort of around a corner, in a type of an alcove, in it a baby grand piano, I mean seriously, who had a bedroom this size?

I wanted to go over and start playing music but stopped myself, while it would've calmed me, it was neither the time nor place. Really, a fellow classmate of Bella's had just caught her with her teacher in bed together, fuck if this wasn't a made for television movie.

I got up and walked to her piano, running my hand over the cover before lifting it to look at the keys when I saw the picture she had taken of me that first night we met. The print was the size of an index card and a sitting at the edge. I picked it up to examine it, thinking back to that evening, walking along the river, having her stop for the photo. It was color, the different temperatures of light and longer exposure giving it a modern twist on Toulouse-Lautrec's gas lit paintings, yeah, absinthe wouldn't be bad about now. My face was in profile, movement apparent from laughing at her belatedly asking me if she could take some pictures.

I looked around some more, the two walls surrounding the piano were covered with photographs, all black and white. I went to look at them, figuring they were Bella's work.

What I saw were more than just snapshots of people in her life, their depth and intensity certainly belied Bella's 19 years.

There was an image of Rosalie Hale, standing just slightly off center of the frame, an auto junkyard behind her. She was holding a tail pipe while a group of guys stared at her from behind, Rosalie had the wind blowing the hair over most of her face, her other hand trying to brush it back. Her forehead was the only and the most prominent part of her face that was shown.

Another photograph was a woman, who I assumed was Bella's mother, the woman's eyes were closed, but she was facing the camera, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth, it was the high and pronounced cheekbones and full lips giving away the family resemblance. She was seated at a kitchen table, behind her was a little chalkboard mounted to the wall, mostly out of focus but it had, "ZigZags," written on it, and that was the only thing listed; not milk, or butter or eggs or bread, but just the fucking rolling papers. In front of her, in the corner of the photograph, was a round ashtray, cut in half by the frame, the other half being out of the picture, it had the remains of a joint in it, just the stubby roach tip of it, and next to it was an open, empty pack of rolling papers, ZigZags. Standing next to her mother was, who I assumed to be Bella, she was also slightly out of focus, part of her neck and her head out of the frame but in her hand she was holding an apple with one bite taken out of it and she was holding it over her heart.

She had taken a bite from the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. How, fucking, apropos. I imagine now we will be banished to the outside world, forever desperate to get back into the safety and security of Eden.

Next to that, there was an image of who I assumed, based on another family resemblance, this time in the dark shaded eyes, to be Bella's father. He was sitting at a dining room table, cleaning one fucking nasty looking rifle, staring dead on into the camera lens. No smile, no warmth or softness, just stark intensity. Next to him was a shitload of gun ammo, it was like he was loading up to hunt a dozen fucking parades of elephants. The only thing to temper the severe portrait was on the wall behind him was a framed painting done by a child's hand, Bella's hand, no doubt. But, I could just picture meeting that joker, 'Hello, sir, I'm sleeping with your high school daughter, oh, and can you sign this permission slip for a class trip I'm chaperoning?' Yeah, smooth as cheesecloth.

My girl certainly has a wry and stellar sense of humor, for fuck's sake.

There were others too. Angela Weber, holding the door to the library open, trying to decide if she should go in, or walk after Rosalie or chat with Lauren and Jessica. I wondered about this one, I got the impression Angela was a straight shooter, but here it was, she was grappling with what she should do versus the split of friends. Interesting.

Another of Jessica Stanley who was standing next to a table, absently fingering a sugar skull lying on it, her angle slightly off kilter of profile, a set of pom-poms discarded carelessly in the background, and the moment catching Jessica crying.

I found myself being redrawn to each one of the images by the subtly each held. It left me wondering about Jessica Stanley and who was dead that she would be crying at the Mexican tradition of the sugar skulls; of Angel Weber and her uncertainty on her position in life and Rosalie's surprising stereo typical male activity when in reality, she looked like a Vargas girl, but instead working under the car rather than keeping an eye on it from a wall hanging calendar. And, her parents, they looked to be apples and oranges, one a hippy the other a gun-toting, card-carrying member of the NRA.

After I had exhausted peering into Bella's photographic take on her friends and family I sat down in a comfortably worn leather couch set up in another corner. There was a flat screen set up on an old wooden trunk set along the wall. She had a shelf of movies, wanting to pass more time, I thumbed through those. There were various theatrical releases, both old and new and a whole shelf devoted to documentaries: _Paris Is Burning, Endless Summer, Body of War, Dogtown and Z Boys_, _War Photographer_, those were the only ones I recognized; how did I not know Bella had a thing for documentaries? Probably because I spent the summer always trying to get her in bed with me, that's why. Okay, in my defense, it's not like she wasn't a willing complaisant

After the checking out her movies, I fidgeted some more. What was going on down there? How much had Emmett puked? Where they still talking?

I went into the bathroom and used Bella's toothbrush, it killed 2 minutes.

I reached a point where I couldn't tolerate standing around so I ventured downstairs. I descended into a family type room, and found my way to the kitchen.

The guy who I assumed to be Emmett, raised his chin at me, I sat down at the table.

"Hey man."

"Hey," I waited for him to say something else, but he sat listening to Rosalie and Bella go at it, their muffled voices being heard from behind closed doors somewhere close.

"You're Emmett?" I ventured.

"Yeah. You're the guy they're arguing about?"

"Yeah, Edward." We sat there for a few moments listening to the two women fight.

"Hey, aren't you their coach or something?" Emmett asked, turning to look at me. Cripes, this guy was like the size of a rugby scrum, maybe I needed to not make any sudden movements fearing if I startle him he'll attack. I chanced answering him, heaving out a breath of air.

"Yeah."

Emmett shook his head, looking down, but I could see the hints of a smile flitting at the corner of his mouth.

"What?" I said.

"You know, it's a good thing Bella doesn't know what kind of girl she is, I mean she could walk down the street trailing a whole string of guys around by their dicks, but she just keeps it all under wraps. You know? Like even if she's aware of it, it doesn't matter to her. Shit, that drives me crazy. I mean, how many times have you looked at that girl and had any idea what was going on in her mind?" He asked me, earnestly. "I sure as shit never do."

I laughed moderately, in complete agreement. I was also a little freaked out at how this guy avoided preamble and just shared what was on his mind.

"So, you started something with her from school?" Emmett went from easygoing to intimidating in a blink.

"Oh, shit, no way, we met in the summer. We had no idea who either one of us was," I sort of trailed off, I didn't want to have to share something I didn't have to with a stranger.

"I get it man, that girl is all about keeping shit controlled. Seriously, she could carry around a basket of our ball sacks and we'd all still follow her around. I mean, Rosie's my girl and all, but sometimes, Bella, well, she's the kind of girl you can take home to your parents and they all love her and want to play Scrabble and have her help cook the pot roast for dinner, but meanwhile, she'll excuse herself from the table and take you behind the garage and fuck your brains out. And no one's the wiser. That's the kind of girl she is."

I looked at him, what the fuck? Did he have something going on with Bella, had he had something with her? I had seen them at the party the night before, the way she jumped on his back and teased him, I thought it was kind of funny at the time, but seriously, this guy sounded like he had a hard on for her. I wanted to either pummel him, size be damned, or steal Bella away to keep her from guys like Emmett, oh, and yeah, that muscled, dark haired dude who helped her down from the chair at last night's party. Okay, rein it in man, Emmett's just saying out loud shit that all guys think. And what's with Bella being all secretive? Okay, I'll give him that one, but shit, did he need to point it out?

"So," needed to be suave, "did you and Bella ever go out," subtlety wasn't working on my behalf this morning.

Emmett let out a guffaw, "Fuck no, man. I've been dating Rosie long enough to know that she'd break my balls eight ways a Sunday if I ever looked at another girl. And shit, have you looked at Rose," he stopped himself, then looked at me almost seriously, "scratch that man, don't look at my Rosie," that pissed me off, but he wasn't fucking around. And by now, I was fairly certain I couldn't take him, I needed to smooth things over.

"Listen, I know whatever I say still makes me look like some lecherous asshole," Emmett sat there looking at me, his eyebrows slightly raised, like he couldn't believe I was confronting him, "but I'm not. We met at a party this summer, she approached me, and we left, things kind of went on from there, the summer went by, we spent it together, then when she showed up in my classroom, to each of our surprise," I just sat there looking at the table shaking my head. "We never called ourselves a couple, I never told her I was going to teach at St. Jude's and she never told me she was a student there."

"Oh yeah?" He said, disbelievingly, "How do you go and not have to _define,_" he held up his hands and made air quotes, "the relationship?" And this he asked genuinely curious as to my answer.

I thought about it for a bit, _she_ never wanted to _define _(insert air quotes) our relationship. This had to be more than casual to Bella.

I looked at him, feeling my brow furrowing, probably looking a little afraid, if I really wanted to analyze it. Was I risking a whole lotta shit for Bella to be casual about this? No, especially not after last night, she wouldn't have told me all that stuff, about the drugs, the other guy, I_ held complete sovereignty over all that she did. _I_ ruled her mind and her body_, her stories and words from last night echoed through my thoughts.

"Relax, dude," Emmett said, "I don't think you're a prick or anything, I just think you don't have a clue about your girl."

I still was playing with the idea of punching this guy, once, hopefully I would have the element of surprise on my side.

"Listen, I've known Bella since when I met Rosie, that's over three years, and let me tell you, I couldn't tell you her favorite color, movie or song, who she lost her virginity to, or what kind of taste she even has in men, I mean, that girl plays it so close to the vest, it's in her back pocket," he had an interesting way with metaphors. "Shit, half my house busts a nut to be her Spades partner on card night, she never bids short and she always wins, with little or no effort too."

Bella plays Spades?

"I'm just sayin', man, that don't lose your shit 'cause you don't know dick about her, she and Rose say they're best friends but it took Rose two years before Bella told her when her birthday is. What girl you know is like that? Come on, I'll bet you $10 that when they finish up their little tête-à-tête, in there," Emmett and French was surprising, "Rosalie will walk straight over to us and want to speak to you, but Bella – she'll walk away from all of us."

"It's not really a bet I want to make, sounds like I lose on either outcome."

"Well, yeah, that's true," Emmett was contemplative for a moment. "And I should give you credit, Bella must really think something about you to have you still here," Emmett seemed to be thinking about this for a bit.

"Here's the thing, guy, Rose doesn't have a lot of friends, you know?" No, I didn't know, but I imagine that was a rhetorical question. I stayed silent for him to continue. "And Bella," he paused, "well, she's not exactly the most chatty girl there is, she's not a big into the sharing her feelings department." I looked at him in question and he continued on. Did this guy eat Dr. Phil only to regurgitate him back to me?

"Bella doesn't talk too much about herself, right?" I nodded, we just covered this shit. "I mean, she's gone out with a couple of guys from my house and she would drive them crazy," I didn't like where this was going. "Yeah, these guys would go out with her expecting Bella to be all rom-coms and hearts dotting her 'i's' and she's not like that at all. I swear, she was all love 'em and leave 'em, those fuckers didn't know what hit 'em when she dumped their asses," he was shaking his head trying to stop himself from laughing about it. It was decidedly NOT funny. "And Rose who has thought they were best of friends finds this thing out, which is why Rosie is probably pissed as shit that this all went on and she had no idea about any of it," he thumbed towards where they were arguing. "But hear me straight, chief, you're gonna get a hail shit storm of hell from Rose, regardless if she squeals on you or not." Fuck, this isn't what I wanted to hear.

"Shit," I breathed out.

"Listen, man, if you two are serious, and you're not just using her to fuck around for a sweet high school piece of ass notch on your bedpost, then Rosie will be alright. I just hope that you and Bella are on the same page, 'cause as much as I could fuck you up, my Rosie could cause you permanent damage, and she would do it to watch Bella's back," he looked at me, a mix of pity and menace.

I sat there, running my hand through my hair and feeling generally forlorn. I stopped these thoughts, instead turning to Emmett to change the subject.

"I thought you were sick?"

"Yeah, those drinks were epic, I might be on to something, Golden Streams, you'd order one, yeah?"

"Sorry, gotta be honest and say, 'no.'"

"Really? Why?"

"Besides the fact that cinnamon and lemon lime are not the least bit appetizing? Why would I want to drink a concoction named after urine?"

"Interesting," was this guy doing market research? "So, it's not necessarily the combination, so much," he qualified, "but the name more so, if I'm to understand this correctly?"

"Uh, no, it's probably equal parts drink and name."

"Okay, so what if I changed the name to be something, like, Sparkle Sex on the Lawn? Would that do it for ya?" I _was_ being used for market research.

"Sounds like a girly drink. Why all the questioning?"

He gave a little laugh. "I'm taking a marketing independent study, we have to come up with a different product in three categories, food or beverage, durable goods, and non-durable goods. I got the last two done and researched, food-bev is a chore, though."

"So this is kind of like _Risky Business_, and the Young Entrepreneurs Club?"

"Yeah, exactly, but at a 300 level course at Northwestern, so not really the same," he leveled at me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to imply -," Emmett cut me off.

"That's alright, guy, and for every one athletic scholarship I was offered, I had 1.67 academic ones offered, too. I know I look like a dumb jock, but appearances can be deceiving, you get me?" Was he still talking about drinks?

"If you're serious about Bella, don't let her nonchalance," again, with the French, "be her front. Like I said, you must be worth something if she's invested this much into you. Balls to the wall, you know what I mean? And I said it before, I'll say it again, you fuck her up, first, you'll have to answer to me, then to my polar ice princess, and she'll fuck your shit up until three months past hell freezing over."

"I wouldn't hurt Bella," I said, mainly to myself, looking down at the table again.

We were silent for a while, and we didn't hear anything coming from the laundry room either. I didn't know if that boded well for me or not. I turned to Emmett.

"What do you think is going on in there?" I asked him.

"Shit if I know, man. Rose is either conspiring against you, or trying to get juicy details out of Bella," he waggled his eyebrows at me.

"Cripes, I hope it's neither of those things," I said dryly.

"Oh, I don't know, if Rose is trying to get details, then you should be in the clear."

I was completely uncomfortable with Rose digging for details from Bella, not that I think Bella would share them, especially based on Emmett's account of her, but still, it made me uneasy. I wanted to get off the topic of Bella, this was getting into murky waters.

"So, what kind of scholarship did you take?"

"Athletic, I figured it would be shitty for me to take an academic scholarship from some kid who that was their only chance. In high school, by sophomore yeah I was on the varsity team, by junior year college scouts were checking me out, starting to court me. Football was my ticket in, schools liked the fact that I could be a brute and a brain, I'd look good in their media guides. 'Emmett McCarty, starting linebacker-linebacker-linebacker, National Championship MVP-p-p, a three-time Academic All-American, with a 3.74 GPA-a-a-a,'" he echoed off like his stats were being announced before a big game.

"Shit man, I didn't realize you were Emmett McCarty."

"One in the same," he grinned broadly.

"So you guys just kick back on Sunday's, then?" I asked vaguely, how he took the question as their little group or as if it were the football team, it didn't matter.

"Fuck yeah, and here I thought I'd be sleeping in, with Rosie next to me, and I wake up puking gold flakes and next think I know, Rosie's going nuclear at Bella. I thought for a minute we'd have more hits here than we do on the field on a Saturday afternoon."

"Shit, it was that bad?" I wasn't about to say that Bella told me to stay upstairs.

"No, man, it wasn't that bad, but it woulda been pretty fucking hot watching it if they went to blows."

I shook my head at the Jasper similarities. Again, I wanted to change subject.

"So, you play Spades?" I asked Emmett.

"Hells yeah, good too. I'm one competitive fuck. You play?"

"Yeah."

"Well, here, gimme your number," and he stood up, I didn't realize he had been sitting in a t-shirt and his fucking underwear, he pulled his phone from the waistband of his shorts. He started to give me his Blackberry but I put my hand up.

"I'll let you enter it in."

"Oh yeah, sorry, dude, my pants are in the washer." I told him my number and he entered it in. "We play every Wednesday, we usually have at least two tables going, give or take, more is always better."

"So you're up on campus?"

"Yeah, we got a house, my teammates and I. It's totally sweet, right by the lake, and campus. Man, when you're an athlete, the perks are epic."

I nodded noncommittally, Northwestern didn't have a cross country team for men, I played baseball my freshman year but dropped it preferring to spend my time in the music rooms. Emmett and I sat there in silence.

"So you were in the English program?" Emmett asked, trying to fill the silence.

"Double major, English and Music," I answered while wondering how much longer Bella and Rosalie were going to talk.

"Listen man, in all seriousness," Emmett began, "don't fuck with Bella, regardless if you have to answer to someone or not, just don't do it for her sake. I mean yeah, I would be first in line to fuck your shit up, I love her like a sister," I raised my eyebrows at his statement, he looked at me and amended himself. "Okay, not like a sister at all, that would be disgusting, 'cause, you know, she's a hot little number, maybe she's like the foxy friend of a cousin," he briefly shook his head trying to get back on track. "Whatever, my point is, don't blow her off, because she can't take any more damage in her life," he finished up.

I was about to ask him what he meant by that statement when Rosalie and Bella emerged from the laundry room, and walked over to where Emmett and I were. Bella looked at me briefly, surprised I was sitting there with Emmett.

"You, tough stuff, let's go clean the bathroom," Bella said to Emmett. When he stood up she saw he was in his underwear, and thankfully, she was clearly unhappy about it. "Aw, for shit's sake Emmett, where are your fucking pants? Can't you keep some spares here or something, _for just such occasions_?"

"I'm sorry," Emmett said in a dopey cartoon voice, then winked at Rosalie, she gave him a dismissive shrug of her shoulder.

I stood up, wanting to be on equal ground with Rosalie, I suppose. She eyed me with extreme wariness – or, more than likely, loathing,

"Mr. Masen," she began, it felt odd under these circumstances to have her refer to me as Mr. Masen, I wanted to tell her she could call me Edward but didn't want to speak like I was trying to win her favor so I kept silent. "Listen, Bella told me about you two," I raised my eyebrows, hoping like hell she hadn't had to be descriptive. "She didn't tell me _about_ you two, but she told me how this all came about." She stood there with her arms across her chest, clearly defensive, I kept my hands in my pockets and waited for her to continue. "I want to hear your side of the story, so I know Bella's not being taken advantage of."

"What, like how we met, and all?" I asked dumbly.

"Yeah, exactly," was her flat confirmation.

I explained to her how Bella approached me at that party, how she told me her name was Bee Dwyer and how we left together, she nodded saying she was there that night and had gotten Bella's text after she left, I took that like I cleared the first hurdle. I told her about our time spent together during the summer and to that horrible first day of school and seeing Bella sitting in my English class. I finished my overview and hoped it was enough to pass muster with her.

"Thanks," she said once I finished my tale, she then pulled out a chair and sat down, I followed suit. "Mr. Masen," I cringed, wanting to not make this a student - teacher meeting.

"Do you feel comfortable just calling me Edward?"

She scrutinized me for a moment before continuing. "Edward," I relaxed slightly. "I'm not going to lie, while technically you two are legal and all, this is gross, you're like one step away from a _People Magazine_ exposé. But, Bella made it quite clear that she has always taken the first step, including last night," she cringed just slightly when she said this. "I have to respect her, um, wishes," she looked down at her clasped hands when she said this.

I relaxed slightly, but waited for her to continue.

"Just for the record, two things, really. First, if you do anything to fuck with her, I'll have you spinning so fast on your way to 26th and California, you won't know what hit you. Secondly, I never want to have to speak of, or hear about this again. Don't ask me to help you two sneak around, lie for you, or make any type of excuses, I don't condone this and I don't want any part of it, any more than I already do. I don't want or expect any special treatment, or need anything in return. You have my word that this is as far as all of this goes," she looked me dead in the eyes when she said this.

I took her cue for honor and set forth my hand to shake on it, which we did.

"Thank you, Rosalie, this is above and beyond anything that should be asked of you," and I meant every fucking word of that like I had never meant anything else before in my life.

And here, her voice softened, "Listen, just be good to her, she doesn't need any more heartache in her life."

This was another clue that I was out of the loop on something, I wanted to ask what she meant by this but was interrupted with Bella and Emmett arguing on their way back from the laundry room.

"Emmett, why would anyone want to drink something named after urine, I don't understand your fascination with this concoction," and Bella looked up at me and slyly winked when she emphasized the coc in the word.

"Yeah, maybe you have a point there, your boyfriend said the same thing," I had never been called her boyfriend before. Despite all the shittiness of this situation, I liked the sound of it.

Rosalie walked over to Emmett and I swear, purred at him. "Emmett, baby, no one wants to drink something named after pee or with some mismatched flavor combination, just give it up, even if you like the sparkles," she said, walking him away from Bella and I.

We stood there looking at one another, she had a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. She walked slowly over to me and took my arm. "Edward, baby," she said in a dead on impersonation of Rosalie Hale's purring Emmett voice, "why don't we go back upstairs and discuss the day's events, or maybe, not discuss them."

"Yeah," I responded in my best Emmett impression, "maybe you have a point there," and we went up to her ridiculously sized bedroom.

"So, you two chatted?" Bella smiled at the thought me having to sit with Emmet having a coffee klatch.

"Yeah, we did, it was, uh, pretty tense there for a bit. Rose is a scary combination of uncertain of herself and one bad ass. Hanging out with her you learn the meaning of patience, she takes forever trying to make up her mind. Her parents have really done a number on her," I didn't really want to discuss Rosalie Hale's family life.

"Alright, so let's figure out how we want to proceed, you know, as girlfriend and boyfriend," I ventured using this terminology.

Bella flinched, she tried to recover herself but I caught all of it.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, Edward, just please, I hate labels, giving something a name just pens you in, gives unrealistic expectations and false hopes, I want to just _be with you_."

She didn't look at me, shy from the answer she gave. I tried to find the words to tell her why I wanted to call us something, especially something other than student and teacher, and I didn't want to sound like a complete dick in the process. She started to speak before I could formulate my response.

"I know this is a bigger risk for you, but getting back together after all of this drama over the past nearly two months, we can be secure in just us, can't we?"

I'm wondering why wanting to call her my girlfriend, in the privacy of _us_, is such a big deal, but I can't demand this, I just want it. She again starts speaking before I can articulate my question.

"My parents' divorce and subsequent fallout, and divorce was not pleasant, and it's not even like they hated each other, they just didn't care, total indifference. My dad turned into a sullen man going through the motions and my mom, she smoked a lot of weed before she met Phil," and to make light of this family history she was sharing with me she imitated taking several quick tokes off a joint. "Like, she had a grow up in the kitchen window, imagine trying to explain it to your friends when they came over to play and wanted to do art projects. The best I could offer them were doing papier-mâché projects with rolling papers in a kitchen lit by humming gro lux bulbs."

She scooted over to me and leaned her back against my chest, and rested her hand on the inside of my thigh, slowly moving it up.

"Are you trying to distract me?"

"Mmm, maybe a little," she admits, not sheepishly at all.

"Bella, I think we should leave, go to my place, I don't really want a repeat performance of this morning."

"Really? Gosh, I thought that went over so well, just how I hoped it would come up, this saved us agonizing hours how to break the news to friends. As for sharing the news to family, we could show up one morning for breakfast, me wearing your pajama tops, you wearing the matching bottoms. I really think that's such the way to go," Bella said in blatant sarcasm.

I played along. "Oh, good, that's just what I was thinking too. We could especially try this with you father, the big game hunter and his mighty gun of destruction. I think when he has all of his guns spread out in front of him is the best time to introduce me, really," my sarcasm matching Bella's word for word.

Bella stilled for the briefest of moments. "Hey, you and Emmett seemed sort of chatty there, anything you'd want to share?" Having gotten up she was pulling her pants off and making her way to her armoire, and effectively telling me the subject of her father was not on topic for today.

"Interesting guy. He likes you, you know?" I wasn't certain if Bella knew that given the opportunity, he'd want to fuck Bella.

She turned around from selecting clothes and looked at me with a cross between confusion and amusement.

"Are you jealous?" She baited me, although not nastily.

Was I jealous? I didn't think so, I had never been jealous of anyone before, there never seemed a point to it. I was uncomfortable that this question had given rise to this response. I should have stopped this before it had even started and told her we hadn't chatted about anything in particular.

"Well, some guy wants to sleep with my-," I was going to say girlfriend but didn't want to go down that road again. "Some guy wants to sleep with you, and a guy that can easily hang out with you whenever he wants and doesn't have to look over his shoulder just to take your hand. So yeah, maybe I am jealous."

I thought Bella was going to take issue with what I just said, my obvious insecurity, along with the fear of being busted by someone other than Rosalie Hale, but, yet again, she surprised me. She walked over and put her arms around my neck, I automatically planted my hands on her waist.

"Edward, don't you get it?" Her eyes searched mine for my understanding. "I don't care what we can and can't do, and on a baser level, I don't care what the rules are, we're not doing anything wrong, except by maybe a few months. I wouldn't care if Emmett were king of the Moon and sparkled like diamonds; it's us, we're meant for one another," she leaned back a bit and looked me straight on, no wavering or teasing to be seen in those depthless brown marbles that I was staring into.

"Thank fuck, baby, I don't think I could pummel that guy, he's the size of a tank." While my mouth was joking around, my brain was disconnected by Bella's admission. Bella had just declared herself to me. She gave me a small and pleasant smile, not standing there waiting for me to say something momentous back to her.

"If I spent my energies being jealous of all the woman who eye fuck you, I'd never get past it, you're too man-pretty for your own good," she was now teasing and stretched up to give me a quick kiss. She removed herself from my arms and finished getting dressed.

"Bella, what is up with this bedroom? I had to leave a trail of your panties just to find my way back from the bathroom."

She laughed a little bit. "This is the Dwyer family home," I looked at her not understanding.

"Phil's great grandfather was part of the Chicago Black Sox," she looked at me waiting for this information to register.

"Wait, Phil's part of _those_ _Dwyers_?" The Dwyer family was fourth generation baseball. The great-grandfather had taken money to purposefully lose the 1919 World Series. This would make Phil's grandfather a man who pushed to break the color barrier in baseball in the 1940's and his father who had recently retired as the general manager of the Florida Marlin's. If baseball had royalty, Phil would certainly be part of the ruling family.

"Yeah, Phil's part of _those Dwyers_," Bella smiled with amusement. "So the long and short of it was, Phil's great grandfather was really a complete scoundrel, so the story goes, totally an inveterate gambler. He took the money from the payoff, parlayed it into various gambling winnings and shady businesses, and it was these ill-gotten gains that built this home. He didn't give a shit how he made money, he just wanted it. When he died, he left the house to his son who wanted nothing to do with it, so he converted it into a rooming house. Over the years the family kept it, but never lived in it again. After Phil bombed out in the minors, he got a job scouting for the Cubs and moved back to Chicago, he and my mom, Renee. They wanted to restore the home to it's former grandeur but never anticipated how much went into doing that. Then after I moved in with them, um," she paused with her brow slightly furrowed at this point in the story. "Well, they just kept the first floor and what they had reclaimed up here, they left as a giant room, which is now what I call home," she gestured her hands around like a game show model. "And the third floor is still all divided up and that's where Phil houses his baseball players."

I did a double take when she said that. "What does that mean?"

"Phil is head of scouting in Central and South America, it's kind of a big deal. When he gets some phenom or player showing promise he lets them stay here, you know they could spend a season bouncing back and forth between the Minors and Majors, some aren't familiar with the language or city, stuff like that, so he gives these guys a homelike place to stay and tries to keep them on the straight and narrow. It helps them as much as Phil's job security."

I wondered at the other tidbits of interesting information I didn't know about her.

"What, why are you looking at me all weird?"

"I don't know anything about you," I replied, shrugging my shoulder.

"You know more than most, Edward Cullen," I wondered by her saying this she was trying to reinforce our bond.

"Okay, so how do we handle things from here?"

Bella looked at me with concern. "I don't really know, I was hoping you had some sort of plan."

I didn't. Bella, having finished dressing, followed me back to the couch in the corner.

"Do you think we should try and not see each other?" She asked, absently taking my hand in hers, I looked at her rubbing my knuckles.

"I don't know. I mean, yeah, that would make the most sense for both of us, is that what I want to do, the answer's no."

"What about a middle ground?"

I thought about this. There was no middle ground to be found, and after Rosalie had caught us today in the safety of Bella's home, we couldn't be safe anywhere. I thought about our options.

"Why don't we treat this like an addiction and take one day at a time."

Bella laughed lightly, "I don't want to get over this addiction, haven't I made myself clear?" She smiled at me. "You're the best high there is."

"You're not helping," I teased.

"Alright, let's go a week. We went nearly two months of almost no contact, lets give it a go, you cool with that?"

"No," I responded petulantly, mostly in jest.

She sighed. "I'm not down with this either, I just – I don't wanna be the cause of drama," she looked defeated.

"Listen, I can be a sexual camel, last night was perfect, it'll last me a week."

"Or however long until we break from the pressure. Besides, I'm busy next weekend."

"Oh yeah? What's more important than leading me out of the carnal desert?"

"I'm having a party."

"Another one?"

"It's, a, it's a Día de los Muertos party, I have it every year."

"Like a Halloween party?" I questioned.

"Yeah, sort of, it's a little more than that. Renee, well, I guess when I was born she told Charlie she didn't want a spoiled kid. Kind of pissed Charlie off, but Renee was committed, Halloween wasn't celebrated but Día de los Muertos was instead, we'd get marigolds and make sugar skulls and line up pictures of deceased family members. And instead of Christmas, Renee would make us celebrate Three King's Day, but she bended to Charlie's will and celebrated it on Christmas instead of January. She just kind of co-opted things to find a middle ground," Bella raised an eyebrow at me bringing it full circle. "She wouldn't be overly secular but still timely. When I moved here and started school, she, um, thought it would be good to have a party and invite girls from school to get to know them. It started off as kind of embarrassing having to explain it wasn't a costume Halloween party but to bring pictures of dead people to celebrate them, they thought I was a freak. But when Rosalie decided to come, others followed, and oddly it's been this huge success since."

She got up and went to her desk and took a piece of paper and brought it back over for me to take a look. It was a black, heavy cardstock with a drawing of a skeleton DJ, spinning a couple of turn tables, the back of it had the date and time for the party.

"So, two weeks then?" I smiled at her. "Oh, shit, I have to go up north with Alice next weekend anyway."

"See, this week will be easier than we thought, we'll just have to get through school with no one the wiser."

I left a short while later, Emmett and I walking out before I caught a cab, Emmett being my foil should there be any random passersby we knew.

"It was good to meet you, man," Emmett said once we had walked away from Bella's house.

"Yeah, thanks for your help," I nodded at him.

"Sure and when the season's over we'll be playing some cards," Emmett pointed at his two eyes and back at mine signaling that he had me in his sights. I'd let the fucker think he could beat me at cards.

XxX

Bella and I did our best to avoid each other, it lasted a few hours. Sunday night and Monday night were spent sending texts until Bella said she had to stop since she had a wicked English essay she was working on, I told her I had heard her teacher was a big dick.

Her text back was less than scholarly.

**-More like has a big dick. That was too easy Cullen, next time try to make it hard.**

I refrained from the obvious joke.

Tuesday was a day off from school, for the schools' namesake feast day. Esme had asked me to join her for mass in the school chapel.

I didn't go to church often, I never felt the calming and restorative features that others professed to find. I was actually mostly bored in church. I would never say this to Esme, and her _church_ was equal parts religious and social standing, maintaining the careful balance of piety and benefactor.

The one thing I did like about mass in this chapel were the frescos. Often times I would steal away between classes to come and view these works of art, wondering if the nuns often took the time to appreciate the beauty beyond the alter.

I sat with Esme and dutifully went through the motions. When it came time for Communion I felt the pangs of hypocrisy knowing I was not accepting the sacrament out of faith but out of ceremony. When I was walking back to our pew I noticed Bella kneeling in the last pew, not seeing me but lost in, prayer? That seemed surprising.

Mass ended shortly after and I stood waiting for Esme to gather her belongings.

"Edward, you go on, I just want to say hello to Sr. Shelly and the others."

"I'll meet you in the hallway," and I turned to see if I could catch Bella. I had not been looking forward to having an entire day of not seeing her with school being out.

She was out the door but standing in the hallway looking for something in her bag.

"Miss Swan," I came to stand in front of her.

She was startled. "E – Mr. Masen. Hello," she said stiffly.

"Hello," responded, bending down an inch to try and catch the scent of her. I straightened myself up and looked at her, she was uneasy about meeting my eyes. I realized she had been crying.

"What's wrong?" I asked, lowering my voice.

"Nothing," she said quickly and quietly.

"Why were you crying?"

She paused, I waited for her answer, I could tell she was trying to think if something to answer me when she finally settled on what was obviously a lie. "I always cry a little bit when I go to mass there, it's so beautiful, I love looking at the walls," she said.

It was then that Esme came out.

"There you are, Edward, are you ready?"

"Esme, you remember a student of mine, Isabella Swan?"

Esme looked at her, trying to recall where she had met her before when it came back, from the movies that Saturday afternoon.

"How are you Isabella? It's nice to see you again."

"Uh, it's good to see you too, Mrs. Cullen," Bella shifted uncomfortably. "Um, I should get going though, nice talking with you."

"Good bye, dear, take care."

Bella left without turning back.

"She's been crying," Esme commented.

I said nothing.

XxX

It was Halloween, Bella had warned me, it was a whole different beast at St. Jude's. While it was still a uniform day the girls turned it out for Sluttyween, as Bella dubbed it.

_**-Watch out for too many cat / bunny / devil ears and horns, and anything with a tail.**_

_**-I don't know what that means…**_

_**-Trust me, you'll see the rise of Sluttyween.**_

I couldn't help but laugh when I got what she meant, everywhere I looked I saw shorted uniform skirts, taller Mary Janes, headbands of kitten and rabbit ears and devil horns and fluffy tails stuck on the back of uniforms . Thank fuck Jasper wasn't here to witness this.

Before starting my last class I thought how the week had gone. True to our word, Bella and I had not sneaked out to meet one another. We had burned up cell towers with texts and late night calls, truthfully, it sucked. I followed Bella's lead, not putting a timeline on things and letting them happen and not desperately trying to reach the end of a calendar.

When Bella walked into class, she was aloof. She and Rose were the only two students not participating in the costumes. Didn't stop me from trying to take in her appearance as her back was to me walking to her desk in the back row.

Fuck. I mentally slapped myself to put any and all images of Bella out of my mind.

"Students, this week of Sl-,"I stopped myself just in time, "Halloween," I looked back at Bella to see her give me a devilish smile and a languorous wink, her thick eyelashes looking like feathers brushing against her cheekbone. "I hope you enjoyed our mini section on Poe…" I went through class going over the use of imagery and how it affected the mood of Poe's poems.

When class was over all students exited, Bella walking out of the classroom going in the opposite direction of her homeroom.

I left a few minutes later to check my departmental mailbox before meeting Alice to head up north for the weekend. I was thinking about what a weekend up north with Bella would be like. Having Bella with me and secluded had me thinking things I shouldn't have been thinking about at school, it wasn't until I saw Bella walk purposefully out of the English office did I refocus my eyes to watch her walk down the hall towards me.

She was beautiful, even in the polyester plaid her form was alluring. The loose tie around her neck with her shirt button open just enough that I could see the straightness of her clavicle, the way her skirt swayed – just a bit – when she walked, her black colored socks that covered her calves and her black penny loafers. Fuck, maybe Jasper did have a point. Stupid ass.

I tried to not watch her like a hungry wolf, I was trying not to take the back of my hand and pull it across my mouth to stem the salacious thoughts would cause me to drool. Fuck me if Bella wasn't one cool drink of water; placid and entirely self-possessed, and as much as I hated to admit it, Emmett was right, if she used her power to the fullest, the men of the greater Chicagoland area would be trailing after her for infinite eternities.

She barely kept her eyes on me while we walked towards one another in this deserted hallway, all the other students having gone to homeroom for the day's final announcements. When we approached our passing in the hall, I was surprised that we were closer together than I thought, I could see, if one of us did not move, our arms would brush against the other. I thought to myself that it had to be pure torture to live during Victorian times, this casual shoulder bump would probably have meant we were engaged. Who knows, maybe that made things easier?

When she was nearly to me, she lazily moved her eyes away from straight ahead, over to me and giving me a once over, she also gave me an infinitesimal raise of her eyebrows.

"Miss Swan," I gave her a trite head nod, we were nearly about ready to brush arms.

"Mr. Masen," she said in return, always the picture of fine and proper conduct. "I hope you enjoy your weekend, no tricks, all treats," and with that we passed one another, brushing arms and she, just for the briefest of moments, skimmed her fingers through mine, quite clearly an intentional move.

I nearly choked on my own spit. I thought about the national debt, how many third basemen stats, the Pythagorean theorem, asbestos building insulation; anything to quell the lustful thoughts wreaking havoc with my exterior and speeding my pulse.

I went to my mailbox and found a brown paper wrapped package the size of a book. I looked at it without seeing a card or writing on it and wondered what it was. Inspecting it again, in the upper corner I saw, OPEN ME, written in pencil lead. No doubt written by a Dixon Ticonderoga.

I opened it when I got back to apartment, it was a Bluetooth and a new mobile phone. A note on the inside made a request.

_Bring this with you this weekend._

_xo B.

* * *

_

**A/N** I wanted to cover so much more in this chapter but felt we needed some Bella info, however veiled it was. I won't apologize for my time spent with Emmett and Calvin Kleins.

Spades is a card game, like a watered down version of Bridge.

Thank you to the contact lens size of people who have read, reviewed, favorited, alerted; honest, it's the fix to my jones.

PinkIndeed was awesome help with this chap, I got stuck on t-shirts and other various bumps. She's a superduper kind of wonderful, I may have said this before, but she has insane recall of movies, it's freakish.

There's a link to Buckingham Fountain on my profile. There's also a link which explains the 1919 Chicago White Sox, they have been dubbed the Black Sox because they threw the World Series for money. I took huge liberties with the event to fit into this chapter.

This story isn't meant to be religious, but I put a link to a chapel I've been to a couple of times, I heart the frescos. There's also a link the a representative skeleton for Day of the Dead (Día de los Muertos.) All on my profile.

It's a beauteous fall day here in Chicago, perfect football weather, mmm, [American] football might be making an appearance next chap or so…


	10. Chapter 10

Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer

Apologies for such a long chapter and the delay between postings.

To the mollusk shell amount of people who have read, reviewed / alerted and come out from self proclaimed lurking, many, many thanks.

This chap is fairly, um, explicit at times, note you've been warned. I hate warning about explicitness, it's all subjective, just like the rating system put forth on ffn.

Two location notes, the Northwoods refers to northern Wisconsin, people go musky fishing there, to name just one activity. Pilsen is a primarily Latino, mostly Mexican neighborhood just southwest of downtown Chicago.

* * *

Chapter Ten

I looked at the phone and headset and wondered what Bella had in store for me, I had an idea what it might be and hoped I was correct, but I didn't have time to ponder the possibilities so I grabbed my other phone and called Alice.

"Ali, you ready if I pick you and Jasp up in the next half hour?"

"Yeah, but listen, change in plans, Vicky's coming with us."

"Aw fuck, Alice, why's she coming with us?" Vicky and I had slept together a few times a couple of years ago. She was theatrical for the sake of attention, was a lousy lay but apparently she took our brief affair a lot more seriously than I did. She sidled up to Alice and tried to be best friends with her; Vicky kept showing up with Ali when she knew I would be at the same place. After a while, Alice thought it was funny and practically egged Victoria on, I finally told her she was being cruel to Vicky since I had no intention of going to that well one more time. I thought their friendship had fizzled out.

"I ran into her last week, I haven't seen her in like a lifetime or two, I thought it'd be fun to hang out. You're not still hung up on her, are you?"

"Quit fucking with me Alice, you know given the chance, ol' Vicky would've been riding her banana seat bicycle past my house _just to run into me_," I said, irritated.

"Whatever, I think you have revisionist history, but you're gonna have to get over it, she's already here."

"Fuck," I said, both to Alice and to the situation.

"Buck up asshole, this is the way it's going down. Pick us up by 4:00," and she hung up.

I went to reach for Bella's phone three times before finally finding my balls and dialing her number.

"Hellloo," she answered.

"Hey, babe," I sighed.

"What's wrong?" Her tone going from light to worried.

"I'm leaving in a few to go up north. But listen, there was a change in plans, Alice invited a friend with her."

Bella was silent for a minute working out the implication of my statement.

"A friend who's a girl?" Her tone was neither warm nor icy.

"Yeah," and I waited for Bella's response. After another couple of beats, she spoke again.

"I guess what you're trying to say, but apparently you're suffering from lack of balls, is that you've slept with this girl?" Her question was in no way rhetorical.

"A couple of years ago, it really wasn't anything, she made it a bigger thing than it actually was."

Bella was silent for a few moments before speaking again.

"Listen, I know I'm frustrating to you, not wanting to call this _relationship_, plus the fact that if we could even call it anything we couldn't due to our circumstances. I get it, it's maddening, and if you want to have something with this woman this weekend, um, I'm okay with it," she said plainly.

"What? No. I don't want anything with her, I just wanted to let you know that Alice changed plans on me," I tried to explain.

She was silent on the other end of the connection for a seemingly endless length of time.

"I would understand if you changed your mind, I don't want to deny you something you might want, with someone who hasn't put you in such a terrible predicament."

And here's what killed me about her offered option, she did it honestly and without malice. This was one of those rare and heartbreaking times where her ease of self was eclipsed by the miasma of this unfortunate state of affairs we were stuck with.

"I'm not changing my mind. We've chosen our path. We're it for one another, no Victoria or anyone else will change that."

Again, she was quiet. I laid it out for her as best I could. She was it for me, I mean, as best as I could tell, I didn't know long term or anything like that, I didn't think that way, but I awoke with her on my mind and I went to sleep with thoughts of her. Those weeks apart from Bella were excruciating and dark.

"Is that her name?" It seemed Bella was rolling this around to get a feel for it. "I've always found Victorias to be very formidable and stiff and lacking decent personalities."

I laughed at this, wanting to tell Bella how disappointing Victoria was in bed, despite her outward theatrics, but knew it would be in poor taste to do so even if my motive was pure.

"Easy, catty nails," I joked back, hoping we had eased away from the uncertainty of moments earlier.

"Meow."

"Will you miss me?" I was, as always, being greedy, a smile crossed my lips.

"Yes and no," what was this? "You have to wonder about my gift."

"Yes, but I have some thoughts what you might want to do with this gift."

"Oh, you do, huh, and here I thought I was being all Mata Hari."

"Any teasers what'll be in store for me?"

"Nope," she popped the "p," I was momentarily lost in thoughts of her lips. "I'll leave that to your imagination for the next 30 some odd hours."

"Bella, just so you know, you are rather successful at the role of femme fatale."

She lowered her voice, the timbre of it bringing back thoughts of days and nights spent together. "Just be careful driving up there and know I'll be thinking of you the entire weekend."

"Even with a houseful of people?" I didn't want this conversation to end.

"You might find that I'll be able to use the houseful of people to my advantage with you."

"I'm piqued and puzzled."

"Mmm, I like the word, _piqued_. Well, dear Edward, I don't want to keep you, please, just drive safely in your Vulva."

"I really wish you wouldn't call my car that, I feel inappropriate every time I get into it."

"Get into a vulva?"

"Okay, this stops now. I'll call you when I get there, probably won't be until like 10 or so."

"Edward?"

"Yes, Bella."

"I'll miss you, terribly."

"Me too."

I sometimes thought she was a tragic little Emily Dickinson poem locked up in a room too afraid to venture out into the world on her own. This was in total contrast to how she appeared to most, but I often wondered at these brief glimpses.

**XX**

I pulled up to Alice's place, irritated by Friday afternoon traffic and how fuckin' far west Logan Square was from me, the only good thing was it was close to expressway. I was pissed about Victoria and didn't want to be a gentleman and help her with, no doubt, an over packed bag. I laid on the horn and waited for them.

"Geez, manners much, asshole? Open the back, we need to put our bags in," Alice was sticking her head in the door and bitching at me.

"Alice, you're sitting up front with me, I need directions how to get there," I glared at her.

"Right, why should I?"

"Because I would've been a far nicer companion had we stuck to the original plan."

"Jasper will sit up front with you, I'll drive the second half, happy?" she sneered at me.

"Golly Alice, you're the best," sarcasm evident.

"Yeah, don't forget it either, asshole."

"Hi Edward," Victoria greeted me in a sing song voice and went to get in the front seat with me.

"Sorry, Vic, I need Jasper to co-pilot with me to get out of the city. How are you?" I amended, I couldn't be a complete jackass, it's not like she was the direct cause to her unwelcome inclusion.

Alice and Jasper joined Victoria in the car and I pulled out, heading for I-94.

"Oh, I'm so good Edward. Gah, it's been for-ev-er," she bounced her overly dyed red hair up and down punctuating the syllables.

"Yeah, it has been. So, what are you up to these days?"

She launched into the story of her and all of the past two years, I had been hoping she would just recap and give me highlights, not like a day to day blow of events. At one point I glanced over at Jasper and he had an amused look on his face knowing I was in pure hell.

"Wow, I don't even know what a, whaddya call it, what an esthetician does," I asked, less than mildly interested.

"Ohmygawd, it's so cool, I give facials, and facial massages and my fa-vor-ite thing, I give the be-eeessst bikini waxes, seriously when I get my license, I'm gonna tear it up!"

I cringed. "Yikes, you're gonna tear it up huh, how're your clients feel about that?" I glanced a look at Jasper who was shaking with quiet laughter. I wondered if he was high.

"Ohhh, Edward, you've always been so clever," she reached over and swatted my shoulder.

This woman was so vacuous it was painful, I was embarrassed that I ever spent any time with her. Jasper was going to be merciless in his teasing.

I felt my phone buzz in my pocket with a text message. As much as I wanted to see if it was Bella, I didn't want to suffer the inquiries from my car full of passengers.

"Your crotch is buzzing, pal," Jasper said, raising his eyebrows at me.

"Yeah, I'll get it later," I brushed him off.

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind a little humming in my pocket either," having dropped that lovely Jasperism, he tipped his head back and went to sleep.

We stopped outside of Madison to refuel, Alice took the keys from me.

"We're making good time, I'll drive the rest of the way."

"No, come on," I was loudly whispering to Alice even though Jasper and Victoria had gone in to get snacks. "Don't make me sit in back with her, that's just mean."

"Edward, you're the most dramatical, guy there is," she was mocking Victoria's loose interpretation of language. "Just get over it, it's not so bad. Maybe you could get your knob waxed while you're at it. You've been such a stick in the mud."

"I get my knob waxed fine."

"Don't lie, no one's seen you out in months, what're not telling me about?"

"Leave it alone, Alice." I knew that answer would do the exact opposite to Alice, she would gnaw on this like a dog with a bone.

We finished pumping gas and climbed into the car, Victoria sitting way too close next to me in the back seat.

"So, Edward, what're you doing these days?"

"Uh, I'm an English teacher."

"Yeah, at an all girl high school. Lucky fucker." Jasper answered, speaking on my behalf.

"Ooh, Edward, that sounds so in-ter-es-ting," Victoria tried to coo at me. I could have said I clean up elephant dung for a traveling carny and she would have tried to sound in-ter-es-ted.

"Yeah, uniform skirts and knee socks, the whole bit," Jasper said, leaning over the front seat to give more details. He's completely useless.

"Wow, Edward, all the girls must be sooo in love with you as their teacher."

I shake my head, not hiding my irritation well. "It's not like that at all Victoria, I'm just another teacher."

"Oh, no, Edward, if you'd been my teacher in high school I would have so totes had a thing for you," she ran her finger down from my ear to my jaw, I lean my head away, thoroughly disgusted.

She straightens back up on her side of the back seat and crosses her arms, practically sticking out her bottom lip to pout.

Alice looks at me from the rearview mirror, I'm hoping it starts to sink in what a bad idea this was.

"So Victoria, how much longer before you have your license?" I ask.

"I just need about 20 hours more of practical experience before I can get it. Oh Edward, you know what would sooo help me out? Can you ask the girls in your school if I can give them waxes?"

Was this girl mental?

"Uh, no, Victoria, that's really not appropriate." I was up shit's creek enough as it was.

"Shit, man, that would be so fucking stellar," Jasper shot up.

"Jasper!" Alice scolded him swiftly. "Are we going to have to have this talk again?"

"Sorry baby doll, I was just thinking-,"

"Yeah, Jasper, we all know what you were thinking and it's gross. If you pull this shit all weekend I'm leaving you out in the middle of the lake for the fucking muskies to feed off of you. "And you have another thing coming if you think I'm kidding you," bad mamajama Alice warned.

Jasper crossed his arms and turned to look out the window, a few moments later he peeked his head to look back at me and give me one of his bullshit smiles, like one mischievous fucking Peter Pan. Stupid douche.

Victoria has moved on to pimping Alice for bikini wax and electrolysis models, I have to wonder how desperate you have to be to skimp on one of those waxes? I shake my head to rid the thought and remember I have a text message I could be reading.

It's close to 7:00 PM, we were making good time, I forget how Alice drives like her foot is a fucking anvil, paying no mind to the state troopers lying in wait for out of town speeders. I pull out my phone and make it look like I'm scrolling through my messages, even though it's the new phone from Bella. I finally stop teasing myself and open her message.

-**Hows your Vulva?**

Despite the fact that I had asked her not to refer to my car this way, I can't help but to smile, I type a reply to her.

-**Uh not sure how to answer that? ** **Full and yet unsatisfied?**

I silenced the phone so I don't draw the attention of anyone. Her response was quick.

-**Shame, nothing worse than an unsatisfying vulva ride**

This was bordering on the ridiculous, but since we so rarely were silly and almost carefree, I decided to go along with it for a bit. But then I thought about it and hoped she was teasing and not commenting on my abilities.

**-U R kidding right?**

She replied almost immediately. I had to keep up the pretense of looking disinterested to everybody else in the car so I stared out the window for a few beats before I couldn't stop myself and looked back at the screen

**-Who are you and what have you done with my Edward?**

I couldn't help myself, I smiled. Like a big, dumb goofy grin of a smile. She said, _my Edward_. I imagine she was joking around but I didn't care, I wanted to enjoy this for a moment. I didn't even think about the fact that this non-relationship was all sorts of wrong, I just thought about how I really liked her.

I paused for a moment, trying to decide how I wanted to reply, I looked out the window and saw that the pickup truck next to me had a bumper sticker that read, _"If it flies, it dies."_ Yow, maybe that would be something that didn't need to be advertised on the back of a truck. I wondered if it just pertained to hunting or something else. But after assessing the gun rack and hunting dog in the back of the truck bed and the camo paint job, I figured it had to relate to birds, okay, I hoped it related to birds. Then I felt bad for thinking of birds that way. Fuck, why do people have to advertise their shit on their fucking car bumpers? I didn't need to know a one sentence outlook of a person's life.

I changed my focus back to Isabella.

-**I am your Edward?**

**-Who else would be my Edward?**

-**I have no idea :)**

**-NO ONE ELSE – MEOW**

Before I could even reply, she followed it up with another text.

**-and that goes for vicky too!**

-**Can I call you later?**

**-Please xoxo B**

I put my phone back in my pocket and tuned back to the discussion in the car.

"I think Lucy Liu," Alice said.

"No way, so Drew Barrymore, plus, I happen to know the girl in Cali who does her waxes," Victoria yammered on.

What the fuck were they talking about?

"What do you think, man?" Jasper looked back to me, eyebrows expectant.

"I wasn't paying attention, what're you three are talking about?"

"After Farah Fawcett, which Charlie's Angel has the best nipples, either generation of Angels," Alice explained from the driver's seat, looking in her rear view mirror to change lanes.

"What's your opinion, Jasp?" I asked. I knew who he was going to say, but I found it humorous when he puffed out his chest.

"Well, it just so happens, that that darlin' belle from the great State of Texas, Miss Jaclyn Smith, has some of the best nips, either side of the Mason - Dixon Line," he proudly spouted. He was an absolute tool. "And your take on the matter?" He leers to me.

"Hands down, no one even comes close to Farrah Fawcett. Carlisle _still_ has her poster."

"No shit?" Alice asked, surprised by this tidbit.

"Yeah, it's hanging up in the back of his closet, I don't even know if Esme knows."

"Huh, that's pretty funny," Alice laughed. I somehow got the feeling next time Alice and Jasper were at Carlisle and Esme's, Jasper would find his way to the back of Carlisle's closet. Fuckin' freak.

The rest of the drive was passed talking aimlessly about movies and music. Alice discussing the merits and detractions of Lady Gaga's outfits, both as clothing of theatrics and of statement. Jasper, surprisingly arguing that Alice needed to qualify her meaning of statement, was it political, socio-economic, age related? After staring at Jasper briefly trying to figure out who planted that seed in his noggin, I went back to looking out the window, the length of the day having caught up with me.

**X**

"…Edward Anthony, we're hereee." I was awoken to Jasper's falsetto voice singing in my ear.

"Ugh, get outta here," I pushed his face away from me.

"Come on, shake tail, man, the ladies want to hit up Angry Minnow for a nightcap."

"Fuck man, I'm wiped, I'm just gonna crash."

"The hell you are, I do not want to deal with upset Alice tonight. You're hauling your ass there for at least a drink."

Shit, this was the last thing I wanted to do, but I knew Jasper was watching his back, as well as mine. Upset Alice was more than enough for an hour, unbearable for an entire evening and after more than a day, the world would seem to lack any and all gods and deities to take mercy on your broken and wretched soul.

"Alright," I got out of the back seat, stretched and went to grab the remaining bags and brought them in the house.

"Oh, Edward, looks like we're going to be neighbors," how predictable. This needed to change.

"Actually, Vicky, um, I'm gonna go upstairs," I stammered. "Uh, yeah, I have a uh, uh, deviated septum, I snore like a buncha bulldogs. I think it's best I just crash away from everyone else."

I watched as Victoria cocked her head to the side, processing what I just said to her. "Oh, yeah, you do totes snore, I remember that, viv-id-ly."

What the fuck? I just made that up.

"Yeah, sorry. Uh, I'm just gonna settle in then I guess we'll get going?" I was backing away from this awkwardness and going upstairs. I pulled out my phone and texted Bella.

-**Do I snore**

I hit send and waited to see if she would reply. After a few minutes, my phone vibrated with a response.

**-Not unless Icky is asking then you snore like a broken down prizefighter**

**-You missed the V in vicky**

I sent the message, once again enjoying this banter.

-**Do you think I did?**

Disregarding our earlier discussion, a jealous Bella was funny. I tapped a reply.

**-Meow**

**-I would pee a ring around you if I could. Icky sounds like trouble**

I dialed her number wanting to hear her voice before I had to spend time listening to Victoria stretch out words and Alice expel her snide comments. She picked it up on the first ring.

"Seriously, do I need to go up there and show that bitch the pecking order?" Bella answered the phone saying this.

"Easy free bird, there's no need to fret," I slid down against the inside of my bedroom door.

We were both silent, I was thinking about Bella and what it would be like to have her here with me. I heard rustling in the background of Bella's connection.

"Are you in bed already?" I asked her quietly.

"Talk to me, Edward," she says to me, just as quietly and a little breathily.

Fuck, phone sex. Bella's desires each time I was with her, proved to be more boundless, once again I wondered how I won the sexual lotto.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Tell me how to feel, where to touch, what you want to do to me the next time we see each other."

"Fuck," I breath out, this girl goes from zero to en fuego in the lick of a lip.

"Come on, Edward, tell me what to do, I want you to bring me off, tell me everything," her soft and breathy voice building my confidence.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm in bed and I'm taking off your t-shirt, you know the one, it says, '_half pack of cigarettes and a ten dollar bill_.'" It also had a picture of a woman leaning against an old car from the 1950's. The picture oozed the repressed sexuality of _Playboys_ hidden between mattresses and silk stockings held up by garter belts.

"Do you have any clothes on?"

"Just a tank top and a pair of panties."

I paused, picturing this perfectly. It wasn't so much that it was hot what she said, but the mix of familiarity, the combination of a man's tank top and a woman's pair of lace and silk panties, the contrast of genders to make her look so completely arousing. I refocused my thoughts back to Bella.

"I want you to take your hand, starting at you hip bone," fuck if her hip bones weren't sexy, "and travel it up, slowly underneath your tank," speaking slowly, I gave her a moment to start the movement. "Do you feel how soft your skin is? Take your hand and cup your breast, feeling that perfect weight. In your mind, picture me doing this to you. See how I look up at you and then back to your breasts, thankful that I'm with you and it's me that gets to touch you like this."

I hear her take a quick intake of breath and let out the smallest of moans.

"Now, since I wouldn't be able to tolerate having anything in the way, take off your shirt."

I hear more rustling as she removed her shirt. She doesn't say anything once she's removed the top, all I hear are her gentle pants of her getting more and more worked up.

"Tell me, Edward, what else would you do to me?" She whispered into the mouthpiece like she's telling me treasonous affairs.

I find it more and more difficult to ignore the pulsing ache of my cock. _This is about Bella_, I keep telling my body, hoping it would follow my will.

"I would take both hands and feel your nipples, do that, Isabella," I punctuate the syllables in her name, "give them each a sharp pinch, feel the pleasurable pain radiating out for those few moments."

She lets out a short, strained whimper. I knew she was worked up. I wished I was there to physically be part of it, but guiding and directing her on the phone was proving to be a new and exciting fold in our sexual deeds.

I could feel my breaths raising and lowering my chest.

"What I would do now is bend over and lick and suck and bite your nipples because I wouldn't be able to hold myself back any longer. I'd bring my tongue to a point and circle them and watch as your eyes would close and your head tip back trying to grab your breast with your own hands, but I would stop you. And do you know what else you would be doing underneath me, Isabella," again, I said her name in a slight staccato.

"What would I be doing, Edward," as she always managed to do, she said my name like the nectar of sticky honeysuckle, forbidden to most except the delicate hummingbird.

"You would be writhing underneath me, your body urging me to explore lower. You'd want my fingers to see if you were wet for me, to touch your lips and feel how your arousal had swelled them, to gather your wetness and circle your clit and to feel your hips rhythmically raise and lower, urging, no, begging me to give you what you want." I'd be lying to say I wasn't enjoying this immensely, the ego boost of hearing Bella's breathing on the other end of the line, it was almost as good as when she talked dirty to me during sex. "Go ahead, Bella, take your hand and travel it back down the center of your chest, across your abdomen down, down, down over the top of your panties," after giving her this directive slowly, I added on one more task. "Tell me, are your panties wet?"

"Oh, God, yes, Edward, they're so wet. It's all for you, Edward, all for you," her voice still barely above a whisper, the quiet desperation seeping out at the edges. I could picture her squirming, squeezing her thighs together to gain some sort of pleasure of touch.

"Take them off," I demanded. I waited while I heard her move to remove the silk and lace triangles. "Tell me, are you naked?"

"Yes, completely."

"How do you feel?" I could feel the stillness hanging in the air. The question bearing down upon her, she was searching for the right response. I felt the string tighten between us when I knew she had come upon it, her quivering, strung so tight with that one word. I held my breath, waiting for her to say it.

"Exposed," she declared, equal parts salacious and expectant in her tone.

"Good, that's the way I want you," I mused for her. "Now, take your middle finger and bring it to your opening, wait, rather, tease yourself a bit, bring that finger back up to your clit and circle there a few times. Use your wetness, the wet I created from my voice, my words, all for you."

"More," she whispered again and I knew she was getting close, this was not so much mutual satisfaction but pure hedonistic motivation, and yet, I was probably enjoying myself just as much as she was. "More, Edward, I need more, let me have more," she gently demanded of me.

It was here when I understood how she held all of the power. She controlled everything. She knew I wanted to please her, how I wanted to bring her to climax, how she was directing me in directing her. I marveled in her abilities.

"What do you want baby, tell me, do you want to use both hands?" My breathing was as heavy as hers.

"Yes."

I told her to take her two fingers and enter herself with them, and taking her other hand, to gather some of her lubrication and start circling her clit. Her breathing became more like wind whistling.

"Baby, are you biting your lip," I so wanted to take my thumb and drag it down her chin and watch how her plump, full bottom lip released back to that slightly puckering shape that her mouth held naturally.

"Yes. Oh, oh, Edward, I'm close, come on, tell me what to do, uhh, I'm so close."

"That's right, baby, come on, ride it out for me. I want you to taste yourself for me. That's what I get to taste when I bend down and kiss your beautiful sex, when I make my tongue, again, into that point that you like so much and lap up your satisfying and incomparable flavor. The way you're bringing your fingers in and out of your core, the ways your walls are beginning to tighten and flutter and pulse, imagine my cock getting to feel that movement, to know you're reacting to us and what we do to each other."

"Edward, don't stop, I'm, oh, oh, Edward, that's it," and she trails off. I know her earpiece has come off, but I can hear her gasping breaths and whimpers and moans, and it has to be one of the hottest things I've ever heard in my entire fucking life.

Then, completely removing me from my own little piece of utopia, there's fucking pounding on my door. I cover my phone and remain seated against the door.

"Come on, guy, we're leaving," Jasper says through the two inches of hickory wood.

"Go without me, I'll meet you three there."

"Don't fuckin' ditch me, assprick," and Jasper lays one more pound on my door. I can tell he's paused there trying to figure out what I'm doing before he finally walks away. I pick up my phone to see if Bella is still there.

"Well, lover, that was unexpected," Bella says to me slow, full of pleasured contentment, and a hint of humor.

"Was it? Seems like you had this planned," I joke back with her.

"No, I didn't," she responds quietly, slightly embarrassed maybe. "I just heard your voice and realized how much I missed you and wanted the next best thing to having you beside me."

"Mmm, maybe we can remedy this on Sunday night," I said it before even thinking it through, maybe Phil and her mom would be home and she couldn't come over, or I couldn't go over to see her. Even though she was in high school, I wondered if she could move out, I mean, she was 19, technically she didn't have to live at home.

"Do you want me to help you right now? You have to, uh, you know, be hard and all."

Well, I was, but I knew I had to meet up with my group, otherwise I'd settle in for some long distance lovin'.

"No, I'll take care of it, I gotta go meet my group of misfits for a drink. Can I call you later?"

"Mmm, sorry pumpkin, I'm going to sleep now, I've gotta pick up Angie tomorrow by 8:00 and go to Pilsen to get the sugar skulls and sweets, papel picados and marigolds, then Jess is coming over to help us set everything up, and Emmett and some of his friends are coming by after the game to do the sound for the DJ," she went through this list somewhat lazily. Cripes, how big was this party? "I should have asked you if you wanted to give me pictures of your parents, I'm sorry, Edward," Bella said suddenly, honest remorse present in her tone.

"That's okay," I felt awkward, this wasn't a topic that was brought up often, if ever. "Thank you for asking, though," I replied, stiffly. "Hey, why are you having this party with Jessica and Angela?" The question had plagued me since she told me about the party last Sunday. I guess I knew she hung out with Angela, but Jessica Stanley was random, at best. I wanted to tell Bella of the times I heard Jessica speak unkindly of her but figured this wasn't the time.

Bella still hadn't answered my question and I realized I put her in an uncomfortable position.

"You don't have to answer that, sorry, that wasn't right of me to ask," I said, hastily, trying to make up for my poor manners.

"Oh, no, um, Jess's mom died when Jess was in eighth grade, and Angela, um, her older brother, Joe, died in Afghanistan two years ago, he was, ah, he was in the Army."

"Oh," was all I could think of to say.

"Listen," Bella said suddenly, "you better go and get ready to go hang with Miss Icky and her merry band of misfits, we can talk tomorrow."

I let out a forced laugh. "Yeah, you're right, I should get going. I'll, uh, I'll talk to you tomorrow. 'Bye."

"Good night, Edward," Bella said sweetly and ended the call.

After that odd exchange I didn't really have much of a need to take care of myself anymore, so I went and splashed some water on my face and left to go meet everyone at the bar.

While I walked up the driveway, the woods lining my path, I thought about Bella's party. I knew she said her mom had started this as a way to meet her classmates, but why this holiday in particular? I mean if Bella's mom was so anti-commercialism when it came to holidays, why would she have selected a holiday celebrating people who've died? I felt, as I increasingly did with Bella, that I wasn't getting the full story. Shit, I just spent 20 minutes getting her off on the phone, telling her to touch herself in her most private places and I don't even know if I know when her fuckin' birthday is, or even her middle name. Everything is always filled in with sex. Alright, maybe I shouldn't be so hasty. Shit, I mean, I think I was willingly wrapped around this girl's bitty finger. And, if I was being truthful, and I might as well be since I was practically talking out loud to myself, I didn't mind. I was risking my family's reputation, my future, the name of St. Jude's, and I'd do it all again just to have what we have, intellectually and sexually. I kicked these varying thoughts around in my mind while I crossed the idle road and walked along the rural route towards the Angry Minnow.

Why was I so attracted to her, to the point that I put all good judgment on hold? And it's not like it was just because of the way she looked and how she was in bed, or a bar or pinball game or whatever, okay, yeah, that was kinda big thing, for 19 years old she was quite experienced and adventuresome. And how did that come about?

I marshaled my thoughts back in place, I was almost to the bar and I knew my brow was furrowed and my mind filled with more gaps and questions than when I left home, but I had to act like the rest of them, slug down a few beers and talk about back hair waxes, gap years and fight off Jasper's unwittingly cutting remarks about my job.

**XXX**

Fuck if I don't feel like my tongue has grown hair.

I grabbed my phone and saw it was edging past noontime, I know we stumbled home and left the car at the bar. We tried to teach Victoria how to play Spades but she kept trying to pretend fall asleep on my shoulder. I knew Alice was watching, trying to figure out why I wasn't taking the easy bait of Victoria. I suppose, in times past, I might have drank less and taken the Victorias or Tanyas or some other nameless girl back to my room instead of playing cards until dawn's early light with my sister and her boyfriend. I tried to distract everyone by producing Carlisle's key to his liquor cabinet, which was really too large to be called a cabinet, it was more like a liquor pantry. And the key was leftover from our high school days, or maybe it was still there because of Esme, I couldn't be certain which.

I got up, showered and changed into some running clothes, I figured I could get the car and stop for some coffee. And maybe a cheeseburger. And onion rings. Possibly I'll get a Big Gulp too. And a bag of Ruffles. Or Doritos. And some dip. I could go with a doughnut. Chocolate doughnut. With colored sprinkles. I take my phone and send Bella a text.

-**Why does everything fried taste good when hung over**

She writes back quickly.

**-Because good judgment is still in the bottom of a bottle**

She then sent me two more in quick succession.

**-Don't get fatty on me Cullen**

**-Or be a drunky either**

I laughed, pushing the questions from last night out of my head. I went about town getting provisions for the group and returned to see Alice and Jasper looking limp and beat down, laying around like lifeless Sea Monkeys waiting to be placed in some brine to reanimate, the back wall of solid windows acting like a giant fish bowl for them.

"Dude, good call," Jasper rasped out. Alice just stuck her arm out not bothering to open her eyes, I obliged them both, handing over coffees.

"Ooh, Edward, so yummy!" Victoria trilled, bouncing into the room, overly done up and looking completely at odds from the Northwoods setting.

"Morning, Vicky," I said, handing her a cup of coffee. Jasper and Alice made no move off the couch. Fuckers. I had no intention of entertaining Alice's guest.

"So, what are we doing today?" I think Victoria swallowed Tigger and Roo, she was so bouncy.

"I don't know, what did you have planned, Alice?" I wasn't about to drive this ship.

With undisguised effort, Alice opened her eyes, flashed me her common look of pure, absolute evil before turning to look at Victoria, I saw her eyes widen at Vicky's out of place appearance, I struggled to contain my amusement at the situation.

"Well, Vick," Alice began; she sounded like she swallowed a bag of tree bark. "What do you feel like doing?"

"Oh, I don't know, I mean, what's there to do around here? Maybe go to a casino? Can we go shopping?"

"Not unless you want fishing lures and flannel," I explained of both scenarios.

"Oh," Victoria said, deflated.

"Why don't we all go for a walk in like an hour, we can go down to the water then check out the woods, maybe see if Paul's home," I offered the group, knowing no one else would speak up.

"Two hours," was Alice's annoyed reply.

Fuck if I would fill two hours with Vicky.

"Okay, well then I'm going to catch up on some work and I'll meet you three back here," and I hauled ass out of there, not wanting to get sucked into the vortex of lazy Alice hangover land.

I took a copy of my junior class's book, and went and got a chaise lounge and set it up at the waterfront. Although the weather was grey, and all of the fall color had already been pulled from its branches by vigorous winds, it was good to just sit and be _away_.

I drifted off, my mind blank from the buzzing of my questions of Bella from last night. I awoke when I felt a chill settle over me, Alice had come out and stood in front of the weak sun blocking any warmth that was trying to come through.

"Are we ready to go?"

She looked at me, not saying anything; it was like she was surveying me, as if I were a puzzle and she was trying to find the corner pieces to anchor me to the tabletop.

"What's up?" I finally asked, uncomfortable with her gaze.

"What's up with you? Scoot over," she motioned her hand so she could sit on the lounge with me. I offered it to her and moved another one out for me. I didn't want to be sandwiched next to her; I was leery of her inquiry.

"What're you talking about?" I tried to stall an inquisition.

She looked thoughtfully at me again. Gone was her normal malice and taunt.

"Are you seeing someone?" She asked, dead on.

"What does it matter?" I answered another of her questions with a question.

She looked at me and sighed, got up and started to walk away.

"I packed a picnic, come and help me carry it, we can eat it on our hike," was all she said, and went back to the house.

**XX**

"What kind of tree is that?" Vicky pointed to her third oak tree, it's not like oak trees shed their leaves, you've see one, you've seen them all.

All three of us answered, "Oak."

"Oh," she answered, dizzily, "I guess I already asked that, sorreee."

"I'm gonna kill her," Jasper said under his breath to no one in particular."

"Not if I get there first," Alice said, not so under her breath.

"Jesus, man, can't you just sleep with her to give us a reprieve?" Jasper asked me.

"She was Alice's invite, maybe Alice should hit that," I gestured my chin in Vicky's direction. She had walked ahead of us and bent down to pick up a dry, brown leaf and examine it as if she were an expert botanist.

Jasper turned to Alice, his face filled with undisguised glee.

"Jasper, I swear, if you say anything about hitting anything I will knock you so hard you'll wind up in the middle of next week."

"Yeah, but darlin', a redhead!"

"Not natural," I noted.

"Oh," both Alice and Jasper responded, surprised. I was a little creeped out at their mutual disappointment.

We continued on our walk, answering Victoria's oak tree question two more times before Alice told her that all the trees in the forest were oaks. It wasn't the case, but apparently Vicky was too much of a simpleton to differentiate between shapes and colors. I feared for any woman who asked to get their pubes waxed into a heart or a triangle, or any other basic design.

We made our way back to the house and all settled in up from the shore while Jasper and I built a bonfire. It was ridiculously cold out, but the last of the fall scented air and smell of the hardwood in the fire eased everyone's discordant feelings and made us comfortable and content. We sat there silent, watching the flames dance around the logs until it moved in to consume each piece.

"Edward, why did you become a high school teacher?" Victoria asked me, her ditzy persona replaced with a calm and thoughtful one. Maybe this was what attracted me to her?

"Um, I guess I did it for Esme. You know, she's involved with St. Jude's, she went to high school there, so did Alice," I looked towards Ali and saw her eyes were closed, leaning back against Jasper's chest, his arms wrapped around her. "They had a last minute need for an English teacher and I interviewed and they hired me. I'm not all that qualified, really, other than I read and was a substitute teacher last year."

"You don't really sound like you like it," Victoria observed.

"Not really, no, I hope they can fill my position next year with someone who wants to teach, someone who has a gift for it. It's not my calling."

"You just seemed like you were destined for something arty," she said, thoughtfully.

I looked at her, the glow from the fire lighting our circle, and I saw how profoundly lonely she was. The lack of hope in her eyes was now as clear as if she were wearing a sign around her neck announcing the fact. It all sort of made sense, her dim act, the exaggerated outfits and makeup and hair, the neediness; she was lonely and she wanted a mate to love her. It was too bad that along the way to find that love, she probably lost her original essence.

"So, are you doing what you want to do?" It was the best thing I could think of to say to her. I didn't want to engage in some great heart to heart conversation with her, but right or wrong, I felt sort of sorry for her. I'm certain she didn't want my pity, whether or not she had ever admitted her loneliness to herself, I didn't want to give her an offer of false friendship.

"Oh, I don't know if anyone sets out to give bikini waxes as a career goal, I don't know, maybe some do. But, truth be told, I'm pretty good at it, people like my enthusiasm, it's nice when people tell me they like my work, so for now I'm happy with it."

She talked some more about how she went to school for it and the friends she's made, I started to tune her out a little bit, I mean, I felt kinda sorry for her, but the fact still remained that she was rather tedious.

Somewhere during the great knuckle hair debate and the trials and tribulations of spirit glue and sequined merkins, I asked Jasper when he wanted to go pick up dinner. He opened his eyes, and to my surprise, took pity on my situation and said we needed to go now before the place closed.

"She's gabby," Jasper commented once we had gotten in the car.

I didn't say anything regarding Victoria, I didn't want to give an avenue to tease. "What're you hungry for?"

"I don't know, doesn't matter," instead of driving to the restaurant nearby, Jasper took his time and drove to the next town over, giving me a respite from being polite.

"So what's happening with you, man?" Jasper asks after we've been on the road for several miles.

"Nothing, same old," I say noncommittally. As with Alice earlier this day, I am uncomfortable by this line of questioning. And fortunately I am interrupted by my phone ringing from my coat pocket, I look and see Alice calling.

"Hey Edward, Vicky wants a salad, and get some more beer, I think Jasper drank the last of it this morning."

"Got it, let me know if we need anything else," I answered, ended the call and slipped the phone back in my coat pocket.

Jasper and I ran our errands, replenished the beer supply and got a new deck of Bees for another attempt at cards with Vicki and were heading back home when Bella's phone vibrated in my pocket. Not thinking, I pulled the phone from my pants and looked at the text.

-**Party's starting I'm gonna call you later**

Jasper was looking over at me with a look I couldn't place, questioning maybe?

"What, why're you looking at me like that?" I ask him.

"You have two phones?"

Fuck.

I didn't want to lie, and yet, what could I say, _it was a gift from a student_?

"Yeah, I'm just trying it out," it sounded stupid even to my ears.

Jasper just looked at me before turning his eyes back to the road. I saw, from the corner of my eye, him open and close his mouth silently, trying to search for the words he wanted to say to me.

"Are you having an affair?"

I kept looking ahead, not saying anything and not moving, I didn't want to invent a lie, I hoped my silence would drop the subject.

"It's a married woman, isn't it? That hot little neighbor?"

I think I caught a break here. I continued to keep my mouth shut. Technically I wasn't lying, it was juvenile to think I wasn't being dishonest, but the truth wasn't much better, if Jasper wanted to think I was sleeping with Gianna De La Pena, that made things easier for my situation.

"Alright, man, I get it, I won't say anything."

He went back to his silence, driving along the dark road.

"So is she good? Is it true what they say about, whaddya call 'em, Cougars, you know, that they're on the prowl?"

I just stared at him. I was truly dumfounded by his inane babbling.

"Quit reading _Cosmo_, asshole," was all I could say to him. He shut up but held a shit eating smirk on his face, a whole cat and canary scenario.

"Took you guys long enough," was Alice's greeting. I immediately saw Jasper give her a pointed look, and I knew the next time they were alone he was going to spill the untrue beans. I felt kinda shitty about misrepresenting Mrs. De La Pena, I mean, she always smiled to me and asked how things were going, but for now, she was a good cover, I made a note to give Gianna and her husband, a nicer bottle of Scotch for Christmas this year.

Sitting around, eating and playing cards, I was restless, although, cards went better this time around, one of Jasper's more surprising traits was his patience, he taught Vicky to play Spades well enough to beat Alice and I the first round. After that it was girls against boys, Alice wasn't happy the second time she got beat, stomping off to go put a movie in and leaving the idea of a group activity behind. Jasper and Vicky followed suit a short while later and I hung back, trying to make an easy exit away from this group that was becoming stifling.

It was after midnight when my phone buzzed. I had slipped it in my back pocket to avoid the vibrating noise being noticed.

"I'm gonna knock out, I'll see you guys in the morning," I said casually and eased myself out of the room. They were all in their cups for the most part anyway, but I wanted to look as mundane as possible, Alice and Jasper's interest in my life this weekend was unwelcome.

I looked at the message sent to me.

-**cum on and call me luvah**

Odds were, Bella was drunk, she was rarely so blatant in her sexuality, she was, as Emmett had crudely, yet succinctly described, the girl who would cook a pot roast and play Scrabble with your parents, but she would take you out behind the garage and fuck you stupid. Regardless of her state of inebriation, I still wanted to talk to her.

"Hello," she answered, saying her greeting slowly. The sound of her voice brought a quick flash of heat across my chest, a mixture of desire and thrill.

"Hey babe, how's the party?" I could hear the DJ and laughter barely suppressed in the background.

"It's good," she paused, I could tell she was not interested in an events replay. "Emmett nearly punched a guy out for making a lewd proposition at me," she told me this incident like she was telling me about the weather, and she said it like _proposishon_.

"Remind me to thank Emmett for guarding my lady's reputation," I said with a certain amount of bitter sarcasm, I was angry I couldn't be there, and angry Emmett had to stand in my stead to defend Bella.

"Mmm, don't be jealous, I'm yours until you no longer want me," she stated offhandedly. And if I thought a little harder about it, it was a sad way she put it, like she felt I was going to cast her aside at some point, like if I got bored or felt she was no longer the forbidden fruit.

"I want you," I assured in a low voice. I was going to add _always_, but didn't. I slipped on the Bluetooth Bella had given me on Friday.

"I like that sentiment," she hummed slightly.

"Do you now, tell me, why?"

"At this moment, speshifically?" She asked, rhetorically, and continued on. "Because I want to repay you for my climax yesterday, it was, um, speshial," her liquor consumption evident again.

"And how did you want to repay me?" I was drawing this out, and although the party surrounding her was keeping at a steady din, I knew I was her primary focus.

"I want you to take off your pants to begin with," her voice thick. "Then I want you to remove your lawyer boxers and tell me what your cock looks like."

I stood up, away from the back of the door where I had been sitting and leaning against it as I had the night before. I started to unbutton my fly, "talk to me," I said.

"Mmm, well, if I were there right now, I would pull you closer to me by grabbing the waistband of those soft, blue Levis I like seeing you in. The way they hang just low enough off your hips and I am the lucky one that gets to see where that luscious trail of hair leads to, and your ass always looking practically illicit in them, I'd most definitely be punished because I wouldn't be able to stop myself from bending over to take a bite out of it." I licked my lips and swallowed thickly at the thought.

"So tell me lover, how's your cock?" Any slurred speech was now gone, her intent clearly focused. I continued to hear the steady beats from the DJ's endeavors.

"It's hard," I breathed out, not even trying to be clever in my description.

"Is your cock so hard I would have to put my mouth around it to give you some pleasurable relief, or is it just hard enough I could tease you and draw out our mutual titillation," she gently accentuated each syllable. She answered her own question. "I think I can draw this out a bit," she paused here and I imagined she was tapping her front teeth with the tip of her index finger trying to come up with an idea of how to bring about heightened arousal.

"What would you be wearing?" I asked, picturing in my mind's eye the scenario playing out in various locations; my bed, or the small continent sized bed of Bella's, the deck outside the 3rd floor loft of this house, my kitchen, lounge chairs poolside in my apartment building. I decided on my bed since that's where we had started out, where I could smell her scent on my pillows and sheets, where she would tuck in next to me once we had finally decided to go to sleep. I locked the door to my bedroom and settled atop the duvet.

"Well, there's a question," she said, thinking over her response before settling on an image. "I would be wearing one of your white dress shirts, having had to put it on in haste that morning because I couldn't be late for class or be out of uniform, I wouldn't have wanted to have to serve a detention," my breathing sped up. I knew I shouldn't be excited by the scenario she had just set forth, but fuck if I could stop myself. She continued on with her luxurious torture.

"The French cuffs would have been rolled over, and underneath, my bare breasts would have been rubbing against the fabric all day, my nipples straining by the continuous stimulation," I continued to hear the music and voices in the background. I had grabbed some KY and was stroking myself by the sound of her voice and the tenor of her story.

"The only thing I would have on underneath your oversized shirt would be those lacy cerulean," I pictured the movement of her lips when she said that word, "blue panties you like so much, a second pair since you ripped the first one," she said contemplatively. I recall making no apologies for that action. "You would reach over and undo, each and every button, but leaving the shirt on me, it would hang open showing the inside curve of my breasts, my belly button and my panties. I would push you down on your bed and starting at your nipples, I would take my tongue and circle them, then give each one a little open mouthed kiss. Again, I would alternate between my tongue and my lips, down your sternum, the geometry of your abdomen, down to that slightly darker, thin path of hair that leads me to your glorious cock, my hair like a comet's tail following my tongue's path. And I would take a moment to bask in the glory of your resplendent cock, licking my lips like it was a tall drink of water after a journey through an arid desert."

I ran my thumb over the sensitive tip of my penis before bringing my hand back to stroke the hardened shaft. I said nothing, waiting for Bella to continue her narrative.

"I would take my lips, not wanting to deny the pleasure to either you or me any longer and would lean over and give you a kiss, right on the tip and then underneath, snaking my tongue out, licking over, oh so slowly," she dragged out this group of words, "your slit before circling around the ridge," I increased the speed of my strokes, again taking my thumb up to the tip, the background music and noises all but fading away, my focus solely on her voice.

"Then I would take as much as I can of you in my mouth, my tongue licking up the underside, along that strong, throbbing vein, my hands stroking and twisting. And because I would be feeling so high from the very essence you, I would let out a deep hum of satisfaction all around you, my eyes closed in pure, unadulterated pleasure. Taking my mouth, I move up your length, back to the head and would spend several pleasurable minutes there, licking, sucking, enjoying," my eyes were closed themselves, intent on Bella's words and pictures she was spinning, reliving private moments from our summer spent together.

I heard her walking, the music and other revelers fading as she climbed a set of stairs, all the while keeping up her softly spoken creation.

"Are you close, Edward," she murmured into the phone.

I took a slightly gasping inhalation of air at the sound of my name, "Yes," I answered, my balls beginning to tighten.

She sighed wantonly, "Oh, Edward, I sit in that classroom and stare at your mouth, at your lips, I think about how your tongue has tangled with mine, how every inch of my body has been covered by your delicious lips and mouth. The way my nipples respond to the lightest of touches from you, how just the sound of your voice makes my panties wet from arousal, every day I leave class with all of my nerve endings tingling and taut, it takes everything within me not to lock that classroom door and push you against that wall and open your pants and take your hard cock out -."

"Bella," I saw it, it was like a movie playing out in my head. The fact of the matter was, I wasn't certain if what she was telling me was a complete fantasy or a desire, something she might put in play, but at that moment the cinema was going full throttle. I stroked myself two more times before letting out a guttural sound, Bella's short breaths helping to push me over the edge, impermissible thoughts pushed aside to be dealt with later.

"How are you?" Bella asked after a while.

"You have to ask?" I teased.

She was quiet before speaking again.

"I'm in my room, looking at that picture of you," and she chuckled.

"What are you laughing about?" I asked, lazily.

"I sound like a Cure song," and she started to hum that song, badly.

I laughed in response. "Can I see you tomorrow night, can you get out?"

"Umm, yeah, actually, you could come over here, if you want."

"What about Phil and your mom?"

"I'll have the house to myself. No baseball players, no Rosalie, no Emmett, just me," her voice was lilting.

"Sounds good, I'll call when I'm back in the city.

We hung up, I got off my bed, took a shower and dressed in some basketball shorts and a t-shirt Sr. Cope had given me a couple of years ago, it said, "I got a peek at the Pope!" She had gotten the shirt just after she entered the abbey as a novice. The Pope was coming to Chicago and she had gone down to attend the public mass, she described it saying it was chaotic as it was when she saw the Rolling Stones in the early Seventies. She bought the shirt but had never worn it and gave it to me knowing of my collection. I kinda wondered if she got a shirt from the Stone's concert.

I went down to the empty kitchen, to the closet and found my heavy parka and the pack of smokes I had tucked in there last winter, no doubt they were stale, but I was craving the taste of tobacco, jacking off with Isabella was great, but without having her sleeping next to me I was restless. I stepped out onto the deck and lit up.

It was cold, I pulled the parka hood up over my head and looked out over the craggy beach and out onto the water. The thoughts from the night before returned to my mind, wondering about Bella and about her party. I couldn't call her now, too risky and the party was no doubt still going full force. I sat and thought about it a while longer before going back inside and going to sleep.

**XXX**

"Hey babe," I said to Bella when she answered her phone.

"Hello, Edward," she said sounding like she was comfortable.

"Still hungover?"

"Not really. Emmett made Bloody Mary's for brunch, hair of the dog and all. And by brunch, I mean Emmett went to Lou Mitchell's and brought back like three pages of the menu. Have you seen that guy eat, it's like an Olympic event, I was afraid if we put our fingers too close to his mouth you'd be calling me stumpy," I could hear the humorous disdain in her voice. "Anyway, greasy cheeseburger and French toast pulled me through."

"You still want me to come by?"

"Is Emmett a mastodon? Yes, come by, do you still remember the code for the back gate?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna stop home, I'll be over in an hour."

**X**

I got out of the cab a house over from Bella's, I knew I was being a little covert ops and all, but we're a city of neighborhoods, people see what's going on, why take the chance?

I approached the back door and it opened without me knocking, Bella stood to the side and ushered me in.

And her lips were on mine, her hands moving up to my hair, I grabbed her hips picking her up, she wrapped her legs around my waist.

After a couple of desperate minutes, I broke off the kiss and pulled back, searching her eyes for some type of clue who she was, why she acted like this and anything else I could gleam.

The car ride back from Wisconsin had been mellow, the radio tuned to an AM station while we listened to the football game. I spent the time thinking more about Bella, about how little I knew of her life, debating the fact that I had never made a huge effort to learn about her and the times I had ventured to do so, being distracted by her casual changing of subjects.

Of course, I couldn't see any of the things I searched for in her eyes, the chestnut marbling was a thick veneer, offering no insight into her life's story. It was stupid of me to think I could learn anything without asking.

I set her back down to the ground. She whined.

"Did you eat?" I asked, not wanting to overwhelm her with my questions hoping I could ease into it in some way that might present itself. I didn't really have a plan.

She looked at me, a cross of hurt and anger and trepidation.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" she asked, solemnly.

"Well, yeah, kinda, I mean, I wanna ask you something, why, what's on your mind?" her look had become placid.

She narrowed her eyes slightly before fixing her gaze on something across the kitchen.

"You slept with Victoria, didn't you? That's why you're over here," her eyes moved back to mine, remaining flat.

"What? God no, nothing like that at all," it was all I could say. If I was less singularly focused I would have been offended.

Her shoulders relaxed slightly, but her gaze remained tight.

We stood there in her kitchen like we were sizing the other up, the defensiveness permeating the air thickly. What the fuck, this is how I get derailed each time, usually by the desire to be buried balls deep in Bella that I paid no heed to the diversion.

"Do you want to go upstairs?" Bella offered. Well fuck yes I did, but willed myself to change the subject.

"Can we get something to drink, you know, I have stuff at my place," I was stupid to come over here, I should have done this in my home.

She shook her head, remembering her manners.

"I'm sorry, what do you want to drink? Um, there's whiskey, scotch, well, pretty much everything. Even Goldschlager and Green River, Emmett thought you might want some," she smiled weakly.

The mood had shifted. To what, I wasn't certain, but the defensiveness was ebbing away.

"A beer?"

Bella went and got me a drink, a soda in her hand she led me into the living room. Jasper was right, this place was insane with baseball, leather and warm colors. I walked around more or less pretending to look at all of the memorabilia, and ephemera displayed. This wasn't a collection as a shrine to all things baseball. I figured if I looked around long enough I would find a Honus Wagner baseball card hanging in a frame on the wall and a baseball from the 1908 World Series.

"What's on your mind, Edward?" Bella asked, making it easy on me and giving me an in to ask her the question that had been weighing so heavily on my mind for the past two of days.

I walked back over to the couch, taking one more drink from my beer, I set it down on the coffee table and turned towards Isabella.

"Bella, your party this weekend has left me wondering about you."

She just looked at me, unblinkingly, again her eyes were blank.

"I just, I just was wondering why you have a party celebrating people who've died? I mean, from the way you've described your mom, it sounds like she doesn't hold much with holidays, I just wonder why _this_ holiday is something you celebrate each year. And you know, I saw you the other day at mass, and you had been crying, what are you not telling me?" My voice was not as strong as I wanted it to be, but I had stammered through my most forthright question and hoped to get an answer, bad or good.

Bella took in a deep breath, holding it momentarily before letting out a long sigh.

"It's a shame you're so observant," she said intending it to be primarily to herself, she shook her head briefly. "You remember that car accident I told you about, with my leg and all?"

"Yes, of course." I had spent all of cross country season trailing her to make sure she didn't tumble and hurt herself.

She looked down to her hand before beginning to speak.

"My father and I had gone out to dinner one night before I was leaving to spend time with my mom, the summer before starting high school. Forks, where I'm from, is rainy, all of the time. If you're native to there you know how to deal with it, it's like how people around here know how to drive in the snow, that kind of thing. We had finished our meal and were walking back to his cruiser, he was the Chief of Police of Forks. It was raining out, the parking lot was newly blacktopped and mixed with the rain it was kinda slick. This woman, she was 80 something years old, she was taking the turn coming around the corner and got mixed up between the gas and the brake, she accelerated when she should have braked. At least, that's what they told me. The whole thing happened in probably a matter of seconds. I guess my dad had tried to push me out of the way, which resulted in my injuries, he took the hardest of the impact, her car, according to the police report, had fishtailed hitting him then swinging back and hit me."

She stopped talking, her voice had been devoid of any emotion, she spoke it like it was rote.

I took a deep breath, I was shaking inside slightly, thinking of the horror that day must have been, of the horrors all of the following days must have been.

She got up after a moment and walked over to the mantle taking down a black and white photograph mounted in a black picture frame, she came back and handed it to me.

It was an image of Bella with her father along a river bank. They were each holding up a fish, both outfitted in waders and vests. Bella was obviously younger, maybe 13 or 14, she hadn't grown into her face yet, her eyes looked wide and innocent, her smile showing her teeth that seemed a little to large for her face, freckles evident across her just emerging cheekbones. Her father held the fish in front of him but his smile beamed with pride at his daughter, sharing this activity together, the gentle river in the background surrounded by the cocoon of the forest. It was a picture any parent would cherish. I held the picture like it was a treasure.

"I set up the timer on my camera, it was the last time we went fishing together. He was so excited, he showed me how to tie a fly, we had been practicing all summer on my casting. He had taken the fish to be mounted together to commemorate the day," at saying this she let out a gasping breath and silent tears started to fall down her cheeks.

"Christ, I'm sorry," she took the heel of her hand to wipe away the tears.

I quickly set the picture down got up and encircled her in my arms. I felt her taking deep breaths trying to calm herself down.

"You're alright, I've got you," I said quietly through her hair to her ear. I felt her wrap her arms around my waist and lean into me.

"Come on, let's go upstairs," I took her hand in mine and we walked up to her room.

We got ready for bed together, silently, it wasn't awkward or angry, melancholy, yes, I imagine she was thinking of her father and I was thinking of her father as well as my own parents.

_I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for the._

We climbed into bed, and she curled up against me bringing my arm around her and twining her legs with mine, after turning off the lights she gave the palm of my hand a kiss.

I leaned over, kissed the top of her head bringing my arms tighter around her.

_It was as bad as I imagined it would be_, I thought to myself.

* * *

**A/N** John Donne, _Meditation XVII_, or _For Whom the Bell Tolls,_ as it's more commonly known by.

Well, the tale of Bella is starting to unfold, let me know what you think.

As always, Pinkindeed is awesome, her continued kindness is a rare thing. And the next chapter of, Beautiful Girl 'Cailin Alainn', should be up soon.

And I'm totally pimping myself here, after I finished last chapter of BLS, I started another story, it's called, Still Waters Run Deep. It's a Bella / Edward story, although it doesn't start off that way, don't let that put you off, take a hop over to my profile to link to it.

I also put a link for Dia de los Muertos and how it's celebrated in Chicago, as well as a link for the National Museum of Mexican Art, located in Pilsen.


	11. Chapter 11

Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer

I know there are a blue million grammatical and spelling errors, those all belong to me.

To the pheasant's feather amount of people who have read, favorited / alerted and reviewed, from the tip of my mittoned paws, thank you.

The timeline of this chapter bounces around, but it takes place over the course of about 24 hours, it startes in the middle, then to the beginning, then back to the middle to the end. It's not as confusing as I'm making it though.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

**Saturday evening**

"What the fuck, Edward, there's no fucking book written about me, you don't get to turn the pages whenever you want to find out the next installment of let's see _what's happened to Bella_. Weren't you paying attention earlier today? Didn't you understand that I don't trust you? Didn't you understand that?"

This was beyond brutal. I tried to tell myself she wasn't angry at me, she was angry at the shit hand of life she was dealt, her anger and sadness masked in reckless freedoms and financial cartes blanches. This is what Esme meant when she said she was glad she was my student. Supposedly I was to know how to help her with the hurt and anger and loss and any other feelings of general wretched desolation. Esme had an entirely too high of an opinion of me. I let Bella go on with her rant knowing that whatever I said would be the wrong thing, although, not saying anything wasn't proving out either.

"For shit's sake Edward, are you going to fucking stand there and stare at me like you're some fucking ignorant asshole?" She accentuated her insults at me, willing me to fight.

And despite the rationale that this is not Bella speaking but anger and grief being her voice, I let her taunting get the best of me. And if Esme were here right now, she would more than likely renounce me as a loved one. I would have to wholeheartedly agree, but it doesn't stop my mouth from forming a string of words that together were nothing but appalling.

"You've got some fucking nerve," I said in a slow, low and evenly menacing voice, her eyes went slightly wide before narrowing back for the fight. "You go on and on about the risk I'm taking, and you know what? I sure as shit am. All of this," I gestured between us, "could have been prevented had you told me the truth," I spat out the last word. All the things I had pushed into dark little boxes in the recesses of my mind, tumbled open and spilled forth with a vengeance. "And now, you have the audacity to get angry when I ask about some major piece of you life's history that apparently everyone else knows, even Esme fucking knows, but me, the guy you've kept on a fucking string, pulling along at your will and whim, the guy who climbs up fire escapes and risks his job and reputation every time you want to get laid, he can't know this at all? Yeah, God forbid I know anything about you, that would be too much for ol' Bee Dwyer, oh, wait, no, sorry, Isabella Swan, to share. I certainly wouldn't want to upset your delicate sensibilities." My mouth vomiting out all of these words of anger and frustration like a heartless, vile creature.

Bella might as well have had puffs of anger coming out of her ears, I had never, in my entire life, seen anyone look so utterly incensed. Her face was fire. She turned and grabbed a small but heavy crystal vase and threw it against the wall in my library. The wood paneling took the brunt of the impact, the vase falling to the rug with a thud. If my mom were alive she would have said, "_Oh, Edward, no, not the Steuben from Granmummy_." Bella turned back to me with fury in her eyes.

In typical form, at least as best as I've been able to discern, Bella has given brief fight then starts to give flight. With balled up fists, a tight jaw and flushed cheeks, she heads to leave. I nearly run ahead of her and throw myself in front of the door, but instead I follow closely behind. When she reaches the foyer, I speak.

"Don't go, Isabella." My voice is too stern, not what I was going for.

"Don't speak to me like I'm a child, Edward," she puts undue emphasis on my name.

"Please, don't leave, Bella," I soften in contrition.

Her shoulders slump, I hear her take a deep breath and release it.

"I'm not a charity project, Edward," she stops acting like a cross and irritable child and turns around to face me.

"I didn't say you were. And I'm not a doormat," it's a warning, and while my voice holds that edge of portent, I briefly wonder if I would be able to walk away and the bigger question being, would there be anything to make me walk away?

"I don't want this to end in an act of rage, from both of us," I add.

"You want this to end?" Her voice is small.

"No." I sigh; I am suddenly exhausted from the tumult of the day and the evening. "Please, just stay, I'll sleep in the guest room."

She weighs her options, staring at the corner of the ceiling.

"I'll stay. And I'll sleep in the guest room."

"Thank you," I say, quietly.

We get ready for bed, I give her a pajama top and I take the bottoms, and give her a toothbrush. She leaves me in my room without saying more than a token _good night,_ and leaves to sleep away from me.

At some point during the night I feel the bed shift and warmth take over my side. I don't open my eyes, but I know I orient myself to feel that warmth throughout my body.

When I awoke in the morning both my bed and apartment are empty.

* * *

**Saturday morning**

Saturday morning and I had woken up alone. As I had the day before, and the day before that, and the same as I had all week. It had been a tense week with Bella, I couldn't be certain if it were because of school's quarterly finals or the fact that I backed her in a corner and made her spill her story about her father. I tried not to take her distraction and near avoidance personally, not too much at least. I reasoned I hadn't told her about my parents until Carlisle had stumbled in drunk and I had been nearly forced to come clean about his actions. With Bella, I didn't really have a catalyst for pushing her story to be told, I had nearly demanded to satisfy a question, a curiosity even. Beyond the confrontation, I was out of my depth on how to deal with this turn of events.

Evenings had not been spent together, uncomfortable phone calls with gapping silences replaced intimacy.

And I didn't know what to do. I reasoned the best thing was for Bella to become comfortable with sharing her life with me. I had felt that last weekend we had become closer, more intimate beyond a physical level, but apparently, we had not, otherwise we would not have had that uncomfortableness hanging between us all week.

I hated sounding like a TV psycho-babble charlatan.

And fuck if I didn't crave the physical more too. The fact that she could do so much to me with words alone turned me on and tortured me in equal measures. I purposefully tried not to call on her in class, thinking about her wearing a dress shirt of mine without a bra on underneath, stimulating her nipples all day long. Of course she wore her regular oxford shirts at school, with a bra too, but I would find my mind inadvertently drifting off during her class with thoughts of her watching me speak, watching my lips and wondering if her panties showed the evidence of any arousal.

I got up out of bed, started the spray of the shower, stepping in and beating off like a fucking 13 year old boy. Once out of the shower I went back to my room to get dressed when my phone rang, I jumped to answer it hoping it was Bella.

It was Alice.

"Hey, Ali, you're up early."

"Ub, Edward, listen," her voice was a stuffy rough whisper.

"What happened to you?"

"I don't know, I hab a fever, my head is pulsing, I'b coffing and my nobe is stubby. I want to die," she rasped out.

"Alright, I'm coming over, I'll stop and get some soup and what, ice cream? You want some tacos?" I rarely got sick, I didn't really know what to do for her.

"No, dumbbass, I hab a code, I'b not hunggober." Even stuffy nosed Alice still had an edge to her.

"Alright what do you want?"

"Carlisle has this thingg, he wunted me to go to a fuudball gameba," I started to wonder if Alice was putting it on thick with her stuffed-upedness or if she was really that sick. "I needd you to go for me."

"What's the big deal, why doesn't he just call one of his friends?"

Alice went on to explain that Carlisle was trying to impress some bank president guy to get financing for some piece of equipment for his office, the guy he was meeting with was also a Northwestern alumni. Carlisle wanted to show his loving family kind of thing. I seemed to recall him asking me if I would go to the game with them but had declined knowing it was when I would be working on quarterly grades.

"I'll be over in a few to get the ticket."

**xxx**

This isn't what I wanted to be doing today. I got off the El having had to take two different trains to get up to Evanston. I walked down to the stadium. Carlisle's practice had sprung for some choice seats on the 50 yard line and I hoped this perk was enough to hold my interest.

"Oh, Edward, what a surprise, we were expecting Ali," Esme exclaimed, rosy cheeked from a thermos at one time full of hot toddies.

"Hi Esme," I leaned down and kissed her proffered cheek. The game was a few minutes into the 1st quarter. "Alice has a cold, she asked me to go for her."

"Carlisle, darling, Edward's here. Ali's sick."

Carlisle, sitting at the other end of what I expect is our group, stands up, "Edward, good to see you, son. Here, please, meet our guests," and yet again, because this week hadn't been strained enough, sitting a few feet from where I stood was Rosalie Hale.

"This is Mr. Hale, class of '83, Kellogg School, Arthur, this is my son, Edward Cullen, he graduated from NU two years ago," he reached over shaking my hand. "And Edward, this is his daughter-,"

"Miss Hale, nice to see you," I said, cutting off Carlisle.

"Hi, Mr. Masen," Rose didn't even bother to look at me, her gaze fixed to the field. I remembered Emmet was on the football team but kept the knowledge to myself, in no way wanting to explain how I knew Emmett and Rose were a couple, or that Emmett liked to wear boxer briefs.

"Rosalie!" She was chastised by the woman I assumed to be her mother, Rosalie waved her off. "Edward, hello, I'm Virginia Hale, but you can call me Ginny," well I sure as hell wasn't going to call her Virgin with the way her eyes were scanning my body, take mental measurements and sizing up my hand. Maybe Art should spend a little less time at the bank.

"Mrs. Hale, it's nice to meet you, your daughter, Rosalie, is in my Senior Honors English class," I hoped that was a clear enough message.

She dropped my hand and holding her hands out in front of her, tapped each of her fingertips over her thumb like she was checking for any sticky tactile residue. "Oh, yes, of course, I do hope she's not a nuisance," she said dismissively of me, apparently not wanting to give Rosalie much credit or notice.

"She's an outstanding student, and athlete," I stated. I got a glimpse into Rosalie's home life and maybe understood now why she was so guarding of Bella, probably wanting to protect a relationship that wasn't insulting to her endeavors.

"I would hope so," Mrs. Hale gave me an insincere and patronizing smile and dismissed me by turning her attentions back to the game. I went and sat next to Esme and looked at the scoreboard clock. It was going to be an endless afternoon.

"Dear, would you like some of my hot toddy?" Esme covertly offered me, keeping her eyes on the game. No doubt Carlisle had warned her to keep her imbibing in check for today's affair.

"No, but thank you," I smiled. Esme is awesome to go to any type of outdoor event with, no matter what, she can smuggle liquor in anywhere. I learned from the best, the antique silver flask she gave me for my 18th, birthday was firmly tucked in my pocket and filled with peppermint schnapps, my hot chocolate having turned into pepperminty goodness.

Esme became deep in conversation with Mrs. Hale, Carlisle and Mr. Hale actively watching and discussing the game and Rosalie was stilled glued to the action, although the offense was on the field at the moment no doubt she was scanning the sidelines watching for Emmett. I was bored.

"Edward, here, I brought an extra blanket, that isn't a warm enough coat, did you bring a hat?" Esme pulled a wool Pendleton blanket out of a canvas boat bag, it was huge, it used to cover their bed up at our home up North. She also pulled out a vintage purple and white striped knit hat with a pompom on top. I wasn't proud and it was cold and moist. I snugged the hat on and folded the blanket in quarters and laid it across my legs, I looked like Franklin Roosevelt on a cold January inauguration. I bent down and retrieved my schnappy cocoa and tucked in and started to let the fall traditions revive my melancholy mood.

Of course, my panacea was short lived. At the end of the row stood a retiree usher with Bella, showing her that this was the row she should be in. She was a winter vision if I were going to be honest with myself, like straight out of a Gorsuch après ski catalog; a Nordic looking sweater and skin tight black jeans and a black pompom hat, she pulled hers off better than mine, though.

I couldn't decide if her presence at the game was some sort of kismet, karma or catastrophe.

"Mr. Masen?" Clearly she was as surprised as I.

"Miss Swan. Uh, hello." We both looked at one another with trepidation and fear and maybe a little wanton hunger, fortunately Esme took notice of Bella.

"Oh, Bella, how nice to see you again. Did you come with Rosalie? We could all scoot down one so you can sit next to her."

"Oh, no, please, don't bother, I'm fine here on the end."

"Edward, don't be rude, sit on the end, Bella can sit next to me," chivalry and decorum, regardless if Esme was under the influence or not, was expected, especially without prompts.

"Here, yes, of course, Bella, please," I gestured uncomfortably while I woodenly moved to the end and took my seat. I sat down with the wool blanket still on me. How best to approach this? I decided to act like she was any other person and offer her some of the blanket, it's misting and the wind nearly whistling, this stadium is always so fucking cold I wondered if it's actually built atop an ancient burial ground.

"Here, uh, take some of this, you've got to be cold," I move to stretch out the blanket across her.

She looks down, not at me and moves to cover up herself from the waist down. "Thank you, uh, Mrs. Cullen, here, this can stretch, do you want some of this blanket?" Bella has nice manners. And she's smart too, playing this off like misery loves company.

"Oh, I'm fine dear, I have a blanket already," Esme replies, and then takes another drink from her thermos cup. She won't be tuned in to the finer points of anything by the end of this quarter of play.

And we sit there in uncomfortable, charged, non-interest of the game. I'm slugging back my cocoa like the small amount of alcohol lacing it will remove me from this painful experience.

"Had I known you were going to be here, I would have declined the ticket," Bella says to me surreptitiously while she has turned her head to appear to be looking for a concessions vendor.

"It was all last minute, I just found out about this a few hours ago," I said into my cup appearing like I was taking a drink.

"Oh." She sits there, looking at the field.

"You look nice," I say. It's true, I can't get the thought of her slender legs wrapped around my waist or rubbing against my thigh or – I stop myself and try to remove these thoughts from my head.

She turns and looks at me, and that's what I've missed all week, a look of mischief and confidence. "Nice hat," she quips, raising an eyebrow at me in challenge.

I open my mouth, running my tongue slowly along the edge of my top teeth. It's close to be shameless and maybe slightly obscene, but since everyone is involved in their own world, I risk it. "I'm glad you approve, I don't want to get cold, unless of course you can think of some other way to stay warm?" I raise an eyebrow of my own.

"Nope," she pops the "p" just to torment me, "I think the liquory hot chocolate you have going on there is doing the trick."

"Suit yourself," I say, and refocus back on the game.

Then, all of a sudden the "Home" side of the crowd erupts, there's an interception run back for a touchdown. Bella is jumping up and down. Even through her thick sweater I am pleased I can see her boobs bounce.

"Pick six Emmett!" I look back to the field to see it was Rosalie's boyfriend to get the take and run it back. Bella and Rosalie both lean over Esme and Mrs. Hale and grasp hands in high fives, Rosalie's sour expression momentarily faded in the elation and pride of her boyfriend's on field accomplishment. I take the opportunity to eye Bella's ass in those tight pants, I also noticed some stupid fuck in the row ahead of us lean back and give her ass a gander too. I barely fought off the urge to cuff the fucker's ears.

"Sorry, didn't mean to lean over you like that, Emmett McCarty is Rosalie's boyfriend," Bella explains to Esme.

In the background the announcer lists Emmett's accomplishment and states he's an Academic All American, I see Bella glance at me surreptitiously and give me a grin at the voice over the loudspeaker, no doubt she's heard Emmett echo off his achievements.

"Emmett's got a nice bum," and drunky Esme has come out to play. And while it would probably be appropriate for me to rein Esme back in since Bella and Rosalie are both students of mine, there's really no reason to, I mean, outside of the parents here, the cat's out of the bag. That, and Esme's droll commentary when she's in her cups is the perfect diversion from illicit Bella thoughts.

Bella has the good nature to laugh. "Yeah he does, just ask him about it too," and Bella cups her hands around her mouth and makes like a loudspeaker announcer, much like Emmett did a couple of weeks ago, "Emmett McCarty-Carty-Carty, with a 3.75 GPA-A-A, and a bum you could bounce a half dollar off of-of-of!"

And with that, Esme gets the giggles. "Bella, you're terrible," Esme remarks grabbing Bella's arm for support.

"Trust me, it's nothing Emmett hasn't press released about himself before. He'll be thrilled to have expanded his admirers. He'll put you in a whole new market, focus group you and write some sort of thesis on it."

"I might like to focus group one night when Carlisle is working late at the office."

"I think _you're_ terrible, Esme," Bella exclaims, playing along with her. "Besides, Carlisle's a total dish, looks like he's got that whole brooding genius sensitive thing going on," Bella leaned over to give the appearance of covertly checking Carlisle out.

"Oh my dear, you have no idea."

I gag a little. And Bella was playing dangerously along an edge, goading misfortune to take notice of our ill-timed relationship.

After some more sniggers and titters, Bella pulled herself away from Esme's liquor besotted clutches and looked at me briefly, winking. Fuck, this girl with her fucking winks, every time I'm fighting off a hard on. And that's when we go from this could be slightly uncomfortable to wrong, wrong, wrong. Bella snakes her hand underneath the blanket and rubs my cock, from base to tip. I'm so desperate for her touch I have to grip the arm rests to resist the urge to buck up my hips.

This woman is evil and divine when it comes to public places. She turns and looks at me, the slightest of smiles flitting at the corners of her mouth. She then turns back to the game. Is this day to be filled with teasing and taunts?

Suddenly, she pulls back the blanket, resting her portion on my lap and stands up to announce she's getting a hot chocolate before the rush of halftime. It's the start of the 2nd quarter.

"Esme, Mrs. Hale, can I get the two of you anything?" Her politeness to adults is enough to ease the flow of blood to my dick. Bella glances at Rosalie who is simultaneously watching the game with two eyes and tapping a message into her phone, Bella obviously doesn't want to interrupt. Carlisle and Arthur Hale are animatedly discussing jet streams and the effect it has on the trajectory of the football against the wind.

"No thank you dear, we're fine," Mrs. Hale replies, having taken part of Esme's thermos.

"Mr. Masen," Bella is set to walk past me as I turn so she can get by. "Is there anything you'd like?"

Make or break time. Snippets of the Clash start to float through my mind, _If I go there will be trouble, if I stay there will be double. _But then again_, This indecision's buggin' me. _But with Bella,_ It's always tease, tease, tease. _Now I sit here and wonder, _Should stay or should I go?_

Somewhere between my musical inner monologue and trying to make a decision, Bella shrugs her shoulder and starts her ascent of the stairs.

"Edward, darling, is Bella okay, go check on her, I'd hate for something to happen to her when she's under our care." First off, is Esme mental? Did she not recall Bella just moments ago asking her if she wanted anything from the concession stand? And secondly, _under our care_? Now I feel all sorts of captain of the pervs, or worse yet, like Jasper. I look to the sky and see the clouds rumbling like a storm's approaching. Fuck, I hate real life foreshadowing.

I turn and get out of my seat and run up the stairs to see her standing at the top, making no effort to find any hot chocolate or stadium dogs or even a packet of pickle relish. She's waiting for me.

We start walking together in silence.

Why wasn't she this accessible and playful this past week?

We walk under the concrete arches, the game becoming a white noise to the thoughts running through each of our minds.

"Do you want to leave for a few minutes?" I ask.

"Uh yeah, but I don't think we can get back into the game once we leave."

I think about this for a moment. "Can you act sickly?"

She lets out a little ack-ack-ack sound, covering her mouth with a fisted hand. We walk to the entry.

"Hey," I say to the bespectacled kid wearing a bright yellow windbreaker jacket that was having the tensile strength of the zipper pushed to its limits by his bulbous belly. I can imagine in 20 years when he looks back at his time in college, he'll brag to his not so little, bespectacled children about how he was part of the football team and he still has his uniform and University issued flashlight.

"Listen, my guest here has left her medicine in the car, can you let us back in?" I've also pulled out monetary persuasion. This could go either way. Bella keeps up her ack-ack-acking and I swear she wiggles her ass a little bit too because suddenly oh boy is giving my girl the once over. Did he just lick his lips? Fucker.

"Yeah, sure, go ahead man," the kid nearly fucking winks at me. Stupid prick, he's probably going to go home to his drywall, single dorm room, furnished by IKEA, and launch a civil war onto his dick getting off with images of my girl's wiggling ass.

Alright Edward, rein it back in. Everybody deserves something.

I took her elbow to cross the street. We walk down about half a block and take a right into an alley, then a left into a schoolyard doubling as a Boy Scout operated parking lot. The troop were at the opposite end clustered around a 55 gallon drum with a fire built in it trying to stay warm against the damp blowing wind.

"What is this place?" Bella asked taking a look at the cream colored stone building, a vague look of distaste present on her face.

"I don't know, it's a school, Jas and I used to come over here to get high before games," I shrug; I wasn't interested in discussing the setting or architecture.

"Did you guys have little makeout sessions too?" Bella thought she was a funny girl.

"Yeah, but he never let me get past second base," I could be funny too.

"Yeah, I hear he's a total cock-tease."

I might have snorted at that comment.

I pulled her past the playground equipment up the solid Lannon stone banister set of stairs where I pulled her down to sit on the top step with me. We quickly scoot back to rest against the back staircase wall.

"We shouldn't stay here for too much time, the longer we're away the worse it'll look."

"We just got here, besides, I don't think anyone will be paying attention to how long we're gone," I fit my fingers between hers. I see her look down at out joined hands then to me.

"You brought me over here to hold hands? Do you have any idea how Emmett quizzes me after a game to make sure I watch all of his moves? From August to November I have a little Emmett SAT test every week. '_If Emmett were a wide receiver would he A.) Fit the smaller uniform; B.) Throw his own blocks; C.) Run with wild abandon; _or_ D.) Rock all of the above.'_ I shit you not, every game he has these little Emmett love tests for me. I swear I'm gonna apply to Northwestern just so I can start off my freshman year with 6 Emmett credits already applied towards graduation." Bella delivered this little soliloquy with her ever-present dry wit, but tempered it with a gentle clutch of my hand.

I drop her hand and lean over, "I wanna kiss you," I whisper in her ear. She opens her mouth as if to speak but just nods her head in response. I push her hat off her head and start to kiss her neck, taking my hand to move her hair away. I let my lips find her neck's pulse point, lingering there to feel the blood flow. Bella lets out a very low moan of approval when I move my lips away to the space below her ear, where her jaw line ends or begins, I'm not certain which but it didn't matter, I was lost there just the same. I gently start to suck the skin, wanting to taste her and leave a short-lived record that I had traversed the area and planted my flag. I felt Bella press her head fiercely back against the wall, her mouth locked partially open, the tip of her tongue tracing across her upper lip.

I held her jaw with a figurative grasp, turning her head so I could whisper in her ear again, "I missed you this week."

I pulled my head back enough to see that she had slowly closed her eyes, I returned my mouth's exploration of her above her shoulders, giving her small, open mouth kisses alternated with brushes of my nose along the column of her neck. I was regaining my balance with every breath of her essence.

Bella turned her face to me and brought her lips within whispers of my own.

"I," Bella closed her eyes briefly when I traced my finger around her ear, pausing on the secret mark I had just left, hidden by her shiny, brown hair, the mark was a secret that we shared. "I missed you this week," she said.

"I always miss you when I don't get to see you," I say quietly into her ear, pulling a page from her playbook and finishing it off with a lick to the curve of it.

"Don't be such a naughty boy, Edward, we really should get back," Bella states distractedly while I run my fingertips along the other side of her neck.

I get up and extend my hand to help her up, then grab her hips and back her up against the arched doorway. I lay my lips upon her cheek and giving gentle kisses along the bone and to her ear and back down her jaw line.

"Mmm, I don't think this is the way back to the stadium," she says, pushing the hat off my head and running her fingers up through my hair.

"We're taking a long-cut."

"I thought there were only short-cuts."

"Well, sometimes I have a terrible sense of direction."

"I see," and she tipped up and kissed each side of my mouth taking my bottom lip in her teeth lightly then releasing it to look at me. I couldn't stop myself any longer, I needed to feel her skin underneath my hands, to lay my hand on the small of her back, to pull her against my erection so she could feel what she does to me even in the most offhanded of ways. I went to put my hands under her sweater but was stopped by some sort of drawstring barrier. I tried circling around the edge of the sweater trying to find an entry somewhere but nothing. I was frustrated.

"What is this, like a chastity sweater?"

"Yes, that's exactly it, I'm suddenly into wool chastity clothing," she deadpans.

"You think you're clever, don't you?" I stopped wrestling with the sweater and rested my hands on her hips.

"Obviously cleverer than you, I know how to get under this sweater."

"Who made this thing, someone who doesn't want me to get any?"

"Wow, you're completely on point today, there's a whole line of Dale of Norway outerwear called the Fall Edward Block-a-Cock prêt-à-porter collection."

"Your teasing words hurt," I pretend to be wounded by her wit. "Why would you wear something like this, it's just mean."

"You're acting like a spoiled little boy who can't get what he wants," she mockingly chastises me as she's done before. "Besides, don't make fun of my sweater, my mom gave it to me."

"Yeah, well, I think your mom already doesn't like me."

She stilled and looked at me, her eyes roiled like storm clouds, pupils dilating and contracting while myriad thoughts rolled through them. I craved to know these thoughts, always still a mystery.

"What are you thinking?" I had to ask. The air felt heavy with cold humidity, latent ice crystals wanting to form around us, locking us in this anti-state of paradise and loss. I wanted to reassure my mind with her body.

"Nothing really," she said absently, "I was just wondering if for as long as we're together will we always have to sneak around?"

That wasn't a _nothing really_ thought, and, she thought we were finite.

"Bella, we won't be like this forever." I was suddenly uncertain but forged ahead despite the apprehension I felt. I glanced upward and saw the sky continuing to be threatening and grey. "I'm not going to bail on you," I say slowly and succinctly.

"Don't say something like that. Regardless of your best intentions, you can't promise that. It's just that, things don't," she was struggling to find the words to finish her sentence. Gathering her thoughts she appears to square her shoulders before leveling me in the most even of voices. "Don't make pat little promises that are outside of your ability to keep."

I kept my hands on her hips but put some space between us, certain my expression was one of hurt.

"I don't know what you mean when you say things like that." Even to my own ears I sounded slightly forlorn.

She takes me off guard and reaches just under her sweater and releases some sort of toggle and takes my hand between hers to warm it up, lightly rubbing and blowing on it, all the while I am looking down at her full eyelashes as she focuses on my digits. She is trying to distract me, I understand this, she's done it before, but I haven't had the pleasure of having her or pleasing her for two weeks. I let myself be drawn away from her disconcerting comments and take my hands and finally slide them up along the sides of her torso, over to her breasts, over the material, and leaning in to briefly take her bottom lip between my teeth. I remove one hand and wave her hair through my fingers, pulling her closer to me, her body resting into mine like fossil impressed in a rock.

Our mouths meet and we open up simultaneously our tongues skip and flit about teasingly, finally meeting to caress and hum and taste and delight.

My hand has moved away the cup of her bra, a naughty little half cup with lace and ribbony straps, but now I cup her breast, working her nipple into a hard, hard nub, pinching too hard and eliciting her desperate little moans of want.

Bella has responded by rubbing her hand over my growing erection, while starting to nestle her thighs over my leg when all of a sudden…

A rumbling clearing of a throat. We immediately break our sexual embrace, return our hands to our own bodies and try to look innocent.

"I don't see anyone" Bella says while trying nonchalantly to look down the stairs.

I look over the other side of the back wall and point my chin to the direction of a man dressed all in black with a thin black trench coat and black rubber soled shoes.

"That was a priest," Bella's brow furrows, she shakes her head quickly and furiously. "You were going to fucking fuck me behind a fuc—," she stops herself, "behind a church?"

I couldn't help myself, I start to laugh, "Aw, babe, I'm sorry, I didn't realize."

"Of course you didn't 'cause every time you were here, you and Jasper were reenacting some Midwest version of Cheech and Chong. How do you not realize that there's the church and for fuck's sake, look, that's probably where the priest lives," Bella points past a large blue spruce to similar building, this one looking like a large home.

"Let's go, I don't need another one-way ticket punched to hell," and she bends down to pick up the hats, shoving mine in my chest.

"Come on," I take her fingertips and lightly kiss them, "don't be angry, we're okay, no harm done."

We're walking down the steps and make our way back through the parked cars.

She looks at me, assessing my statement. She gives a light chuckle and shake of her head. "I don't want to fathom the thought of a priest catching us in flagrante delicto."

"Easy, Bella, your Latin is damn near giving me a hard on," I'm not entirely joking either, the way her lips surround the words is enough to make me have to duck into a corner stall.

"Well, get it under control, it's show time again," we've made our way back through the alley and are crossing the street back to the stadium.

The tubby ticket taker lets us back in while giving me a knowing look while nodding his head. I give him a patronizing single nod of my head, inwardly pissed off that he would have made any type of assumption that we left to get _busy_. Despite this, I still manage to put my hand on the small of Bella's back and guide her towards our seats.

"I can't go back empty handed," Bella says to me over her shoulder.

"Yeah, you're right, come on, we'll get some snacks."

We make our way back carrying hotdogs, bottles of water and warm cocoas. The band is butchering what can be loosely called a rendition of Malaguena, marching out of sync in a rudimentary formation.

"Edward, are you feeling alright? You were gone so long," Esme asks me absently while peering down through her reading glasses at a crossword puzzle. Mrs. Hale has Rosalie engrossed in conversation.

"I'm sorry, Esme, I wasn't feeling well, I've been fighting this tickle in my throat all week, Mr. Masen helped me find some tea."

I feel wrong for being impressed with Bella's quick thinking.

"Oh, Edward, you're sweet." Esme goes back to her crossword. "What's a six letter word for _clandestine_?"

Is she kidding me with this?

"Secret," both Bella and I answer at the same time.

Esme looked up at the both of us, even with Bella's head turned in a ¾ profile, I could see a blush creep its way up from her neck and spread across her cheeks.

"Bella, honey, you're all flushed, are you getting sick? Edward tells me our Ali is sick, I hope it's not going around," Esme takes her hand out of her glove, removes Bella's hat and curves her hand around Bella's forehead checking for a fever.

"No, you feel warm, maybe just from walking around, but no fever."

Bella scrunches her eyes up and looks down at her hands in her lap. I take the opportunity to give Esme a hard look for making Bella feel uncomfortable, Esme narrows her eyes and gives me a stiff shake of her head, like she knows better that I.

"Bella, would you like to come over to our home after the game? Carlisle and I would so love to have you, and I promise, Mr. Masen will be nice," she says like I'm not there and like I'm a total tool.

"Oh, no, Esme, I really couldn't, thank you though," Bella said demurely. Of course she wouldn't know of Esme's tenacity.

"Oh don't be silly, please come, I have two lovely quiches and some cock-a-leekie soup that will warm up all."

Bella nearly spluttered out the sip of water she was taking and I simply dropped my half eaten hotdog to the ground, my mouth hanging open. Did Esme just say that cock would warm us all up?

"Um, actually that sounds like a lovely menu, uh, but I have a date later tonight," I knew she was making it up, but it still stabbed in my heart, I was briefly tortured by the thought of her with someone else. "I hope I can take a rain check though?"

"Oh course, dear, maybe you'd like to join our book club," and Esme trailed off vaguely about books they've read and are planning to read and what the schedule is for her group of hens to meet and cackle around the coop. I hope she and Bella both forget this particular topic of conversation the moment it's changed. I am bothered by Esme's suddenly fierce interest in Bella.

Finally, after what seemed to be millennia, they break apart from conversation.

"What a shame to have turned down leaky cock soup," and she tips her head to the side with a whimsical expression upon her face.

**xxx**

I went in to help Esme with coffee following dinner.

"Thank you, Edward."

I hum noncommittally.

"Bella is a sweet girl. I'm glad she's your student," Esme states.

"Oh yeah, and why's that?" I ask paying more attention to the silver coffee service I'm trying not to smudge, per Esme's expectations rather than to Esme's musings.

"I had lunch with Sr. Shelly last week," this garners my attention and I set the coffee service on the counter and turn around to listen to what Esme is sharing with me.

"Esme, please don't pry into a student's personal life, especially Bella," I am surprised I have come out and said this. "The best as I can tell, she's a terribly private person."

"Oh, Edward," she cups her hand on my cheek. "It's obvious how much you care for her," my heart is pumping furiously at this observation and I try and maintain even breathing.

"She's a lovely young woman who's had a difficult road with losing both of her parents, it's no surprise you would take an interest in her."

_Losing both of her parents_…_take an interest in her_… What did Esme know?

"I wasn't aware both of her parents were dead, just her father," I look at Esme and she's gently nodding her head, I continue. "We ran Cross Country together, Coach Clapp had told me to keep an eye on her running. Bella tried to shake me off, not wanting to be an exception but I eventually learned of her accident," I was speaking slowly, measuring my words not wanting to intimate anything, or wanting to feel bad for twisting the timeline of truth.

"Heartbreaking," Esme says and is genuine in her sentiment.

"And her mother?" I ask in a near whisper. I know this is wrong, I shouldn't be asking Esme about Bella like she's a piece of gossip to be divided up and shared.

"I was so concerned after seeing her at Mass the other week; no one that young and sweet should be sitting in a church alone and crying. I'm sorry Edward, I just thought if it were you or Ali I would want someone to care for both of you, that's why I spoke with Sr. Shelly."

I try to remain placid.

"What happened to her mother?" I repeat my question, this time with more voice, and more clinical interest, regardless of my wrongful curiosity, I still needed to appear somewhat dispassionate in my interest of Bella.

"She had cancer," Esme tells me while pursing her lips, as though the disease is a personal affront to her. "I just couldn't help but think about Edward Senior and Elizabeth and thankful they wanted us to look after you, but Bella has no other family."

"She's close with Rosalie Hale, and she has her step father, I think they're kind of close," I say, trying to fill the air with answers.

"That's good," Esme is humming, setting some biscuits on a tray.

I'm quiet and keep myself busy with the sugar dish and cream pitcher. I want Esme to know that I do care about Bella, obviously not as I have been caring for her, but more in a John Donne, _I care about humankind_ kind of way.

"She lives with her step father, I think he works in the Cub's organization. Alice, Jasper and I went over to her house a couple of weeks ago for that Cross Country party," outside of the fact that I've been fucking Bella, I do want Esme's approval that I care about my students.

"Oh, God, Ali didn't come back with another tattoo, did she?" Esme had moved on to a different subject and I was both grateful and despondent. Again I thought of how little I knew of Bella and wondered why she hadn't shared this with me, especially after last weekend when I learned of her father's death.

"No, as of last weekend no new tattoos to report on the Alice front," I smiled at Esme

"Here, let's bring this into the living room," Esme leads out of the kitchen through the swinging door, and I set the service on the coffee table and settle on the couch to join the conversation while my thoughts are occupied elsewhere.

The evening wraps up not long after the coffee is served, I'm happy to be out of there. Any other time and I'd want to spend time with Esme and Carlisle, but not tonight.

Walking home, I'm thinking about Bella and trying to decide how best to - confront? No, that's not the best action; it sounds too threatening. Discuss? No, that makes me feel like I'm some sort of authority figure and can offer guidance; not my place. Inquire? I did that last weekend and it got me shut out all week, I might still be on the outs had it not been for Carlisle's need for a new cardio ultrasonic diagnostic flux-capacitor cinescope equipment thing. Smoke some weed and / or drink too much and bring it up, casually somehow? No, that's passive aggressive, just like cornering her, just not with a clear head.

I hadn't come up with a plan by the time I reached my lobby. I nod to Sergei at the desk.

"Mister Cullen," Sergei is extremely formal and straitlaced, he gives me a tight nod as I turn to head towards the elevators.

In my apartment I hang my coat and pour myself a whiskey. I'm agitated. I go and sit on the piano bench but stare out the windows watching a rare cold weather thunderstorm, brief flashes of lightning striking the lake. I turn around and sit facing the keys of this instrument, after several moments I begin to play Liszt's, Liebesträume. When I'm nearly to the end of the piece my phone vibrates with a call from Bella.

Bella.

"Hey," I am preoccupied and not certain if I should see Bella tonight, even if I want to.

"I'm around the corner, can I come up? The rain is an utter banshee out here." Her tone is light.

"Yeah, please," my mouth betrays my body, my brain too afraid to speak up that this is a bad idea.

When I let Bella in she looks around at the dim lighting and at the light show going on outside. She walks over to the windows and watches the silent show. I move up behind her.

"Don't you ever get afraid by all that power of destruction right outside this glass?" Bella asks my reflection in the window.

I think about this question and the implications of my answer. "I think it's all relative to one's perception. Destruction or harmony."

"I guess that's," Bella focuses her eyes on me, her tongue playing at her top two teeth in momentary contemplation, "oblique and pragmatic all at the same time."

I decide I want more whiskey. "Bella, can I get you a drink?"

"Ever the gentleman, no, I'm good, but have at it."

She follows me into the library while I fix my drink, like pouring a whiskey neat is much of a task but happy to have my back to her. I can feel Isabella studying me.

"Is there something bothering you, Edward?" Her tone is falsely pleasant, in actuality, it's a challenge she lying down.

I turn around and trying my best to look impassive I spill it all out. "I spoke to Esme today…"

And that's when the shit hit the fan, or more specifically, the vase hit the wall.

* * *

**Sunday Morning**

"Fuck," I said to my very empty bed and threw back the covers while I continued to lay there flat on my back. I realized this was neither productive nor constructive so I turned my legs over to the side of the bed and sat up, leaning my elbows on my knees and scratching my fingers through my hair.

How much easier my life would be if I could just give this woman up. She could go about her life tormenting other men and moving on once she had to reveal too much about herself, I could go ahead and make my way through Alice's friends again, hitting nightclubs without a girl who needed a fake ID to get into one, being able to take a girl to meet Carlisle and Esme.

Why didn't I want to do that, wouldn't it make her life and my life easier that way? She obviously didn't want to invest much in the foundation of this non-relationship we had, as best as I could tell from her actions, she just liked to fuck me. I was a prize, the young teacher being taunted and tormented by a student, I was being led around by my dick.

I didn't really believe that.

Mostly.

I hoped.

I got out of bed and changed into running gear pulling a beanie over my head, looking out my windows, the weather grey and moist again today. I felt no need to take an iPod, I figured if I was going to feel sorry for myself, or blame myself for the crumbling of this thing with Bella then I might as well immerse myself in it, I didn't need to supplement my heartbreak with music. Cripes, I was a fucking whiny bitch.

I glanced at my watch, 4:57, and Sunday morning. Not so long ago and I would've been just be leaving a club or in full swing of an after party. Now, I'm alone, cold, frustrated and generally unsettled.

I ran east of Michigan Avenue, to the area less traveled. The day is paused having shed the last vestiges of night before dawn struggles to break the eastern sky. It's eerie and I feel the weight of the loss of purpose and point.

I run steady, I pass only a couple other runners, the cool temperature and early morning hour not for the weak. I check my watch and it reads 5:13, my pace faster than I expected as I'm nearly to Navy Pier. I watch the towering Ferris wheel grow in size with each added footfall.

I slow, it's too much to run this hard, especially since I haven't kept an active schedule since cross country ended two weeks ago. I shake my head and the surprise that it's only been a little over two weeks back with Bella, and here we are, again, caught on a wire strung between heaven and hell. Apparently I was a metaphorical fucker when my heart was beaten, bloodied and broken, or I just relished the flourish in my self pity.

I've never had an issue trying to get women, not since I turned 14, I started to fill out and fit into my limbs and Carlisle sat me down and gave me some advice, he had given me your body is changing, how babies are made and safe sex talk a couple years earlier, but this was my introduction into _being a guy_ talk. He told me two things; listen and act like you know what you're doing.

As most times, it turned out Carlisle was right. Even if I was nervous or uncertain, I hid it well enough that girls started to make advances to me. I'd read magazine articles, books, anything that told me about women. I knew how to talk to them, how to listen to them, what would make them happy and what would make them very unhappy. I was even stupid enough to believe I knew how they thought.

And then Bella stung herself into my routine and I realized I didn't know my ass from my elbow.

And even though I never treated woman poorly, I realized I never treated them like much of anything. Somewhere along the way I became indifferent, I expected that physically I would be satisfied, and I was most of the time. Mentally satisfied or challenged never figured into the equation. It wasn't until last weekend being around Victoria again did I realize how Bella was both sides of the coin, physical and cerebral.

Despite the paths that were set out by the fates, I was extremely fortunate to have been given two sets of very loving parents. Each couple balanced their partner out. My father was always up for a challenge and good time, no matter how imprudent it was, my mother would subtly refocus him with good natured teasing, making him think he had made a wiser decision when it was always her that guided him back to the straight and narrow. Carlisle's melancholy was always tempered by Esme's joy of living, they kept each other from flitting dangerously close along the edges of either end of excess.

Bella and I seemed to balance the other out on all of those points despite the short time we had known one another.

I had told Bella that I didn't want to stop and start again, this was it until it wasn't, but now I wondered if I could be true to that declaration.

I'd gone maybe 500 feet more when I saw someone on a bench looking out to the pier and lake. It's random, the cold weather and residual night fog hanging around make it unexpected. If Bella were here she'd have her camera taking disquieting images of common city landmarks.

I approached the bench when I heard my name.

I stopped and turned to the source. Bella was sitting on the bench next to the path.

She sighed.

"Are you okay?" I couldn't help but ask. She looked just like the weather; grey, drawn, indigo underneath her eyes.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded my head slightly.

"You're right, Edward. All the things you said are true." She looked at me with tired eyes. "I have kept you on a string, and you really have very little idea how strongly I feel about you by my actions. I don't think of you just for sex though, you're wrong on that point," she gentle argues my outburst from the previous evening.

I look around, the day had come upon us and even though the path was sparsely populated and little chance of anyone who knows us would be around, I didn't want to take a chance.

"Can we go back to my place?"

"Yeah."

I looked at her, she was dressed in her leggings from the night before, and an oversized hooded sweatshirt that said, "Big wheels keep on turnin', Proud Mary keep on burnin'." She had her Vans on which meant she hadn't run here.

"How'd you get here?"

"Um, I walked. I needed to sort things out, outside of your home," she said thoughtfully.

I went and sat down next to her and looked out to her view.

"I never used to lie, Edward. It started after my accident. My mom would look at me, it was horrible, her eyes wide with uncertain worry. She would ask me, a ridiculous amount of times each day, how I was feeling, was the pain bad, where did I hurt. She doted on me, like, constantly. I didn't want her to worry, I rationalized that lying to her about that I felt okay or better or good, would lessen her load, I guess lighten the burden I had become."

I took her hand, I understood what she said. I hadn't been hurt when my parents were killed, but I felt like I had intruded on Carlisle and Esme's life. I understood what it felt to be a burden, regardless of the fact that they never made me feel that way.

"After that year of recovery and the intense physical therapy, I started high school. I think Renee was relieved, she didn't have to keep a hawk's eye on me all day. Phil had just started traveling to Central America for his job, he was doing it on a trial basis, he and Renee had figured he try this position in the organization, see if he liked it, then she would start traveling with him. They loved to go places together, they figured he would work scouting potential players, and my mom would explore, it would have completely suited them, they both had strong cases of wanderlust. After I finished my freshman year of school and my injuries became less of a constant focus, Renee asked me if I wanted to go to Florida, you know, take a road trip. To be honest, thoughts of Florida in the summer heat and humidity seemed brutal, but it didn't matter, I wanted to do something with my mom that she wanted to do. So we planned this trip. We had a map tacked to the wall in the study and we placed those colored top straight pins on the places we wanted to see. We had this total serpentine route, I think we had something like 47 places we wanted to see, everything from the unusual to the historic to natural phenomena. It was pretty much epic and we took practically all summer to do it, finally ending up in the Keys where Phil met up with us."

I sat listening to Bella tell her story.

"So, when we were in Key West, after we had gone to Hemingway's house and seen those polydactyl cats, have you ever seen those cats?" Bella's tone changed from strained to light and fun. "They look like they have thumbs, like you want to give them little cat high fives every time they do something cute," she made a little high five gesture, her fingers in a paw-like form. I couldn't help but smile at her actions. Then her eyes dimmed again and she continued on.

"It was in Key West when she told Phil how badly her back had been hurting. She hadn't told me this even though we had spent every day together for two months. I guess there was also blood, except we didn't find out about that until later. " She looked at me for understanding that she meant blood in her urine, I nodded my head showing her I knew what she meant.

"We drove back to Miami, Phil convinced her to leave the car, he would either drive it back or hire a service to get it back to Chicago and Renee and I took a flight home."

She put her hands through the front pocket of the sweatshirt.

"Finally after like two weeks of her taking my Vicodin and staying on her back, I convinced her to go to the doctor. We went straight from the doctor's office to the hospital. She said they just wanted to run some tests, rule out some things. You know the normal non-specific bullshit that lets your imagination run away with the worst possible outcomes. My mom was in that fucking hospital bed for a week and it wasn't until she started to turn a yellowy brown mustard color did they start to run the right tests and look for the answers."

"What was it?" I nearly whispered, moving over so our thighs were touching.

"Pancreatic cancer."

I knew enough about cancers to know that was one of the worst ones. Although, that was a stupid thing to think, it's not like any of them were worthy of a party.

"Phil came home, took a leave of absence from work and we all fought the disease together over the next 13 months. Chemo, radiation, crystals, healers, prayers, every option exhausted. He wanted to book a flight and take her to Lourdes, but my mom put her foot down and told him to get her a drink of Evian instead," Bella gave a wan smile at this recollection.

"It was of the Friday of Memorial day weekend that her doctor called our home. My mom was in the hospital because she had been dehydrated. It had been nine months at this point. In and out of a hospital, appointments, poisons that were supposed to kill the poison living in her body, and this fucking doctor called," she paused, moving her gaze to stare up at the clouded sky in an effort to fight off tears. "This fucker called and told Phil over the fucking telephone that there was nothing else they could do, it was only a matter of time. Poor Phil was so broken and stunned that he thanked the heartless bastard for calling him. This guy didn't even have the decency to call a meeting in his office, too much of a coward to tell us to our faces that my mother was going to die. We brought her home and tried to take each day as best we could. I don't know if she was told there was no hope, if she knew, she kept it from me, trying to stay upbeat and positive. She would ask me on days when she could get out of bed, if she looked okay, or was her wig noticeable, did I think she looked yellow, if she looked like she was putting weight back on. What could I do but tell her she looked better, her skin like rosy and bright, or that no one could tell it was a wig and that her 92 pounds looked more like 102 pounds. The harder I had to lie, the easier it became, it helped me to put it in little compartments in my mind so I could deal with the moment and not have to think about the inevitable outcome. I mean, fuck," she looked down, "a Priest administered Last Rights three times." She looked back at me her eyes scrunched up, her brow furrowed, her fingers now splayed out on her knees, her expression looking like she earned a Medal of Honor for a war and country she did not believe in.

"I didn't want to think about the future; the only things I planned for was how quickly I could get her to the hospital if something happened or coming up with a menu to get her to eat something that she wouldn't vomit up 12 minutes later or arranging a wake and funeral. Day to day, or really, hour to hour, became the easiest way to deal with everything else. After she died, I suppose I just stayed in that mode. I felt, feel, still, maybe, I guess, if I look to the future I'll only get burned by the present." She sounded exhausted.

"Then I met you and I couldn't stop myself from seeing night and day with you. You were so beautiful standing there against that wall; all the Italian Renaissance masters brought forth just for me, my own personal chiaroscuro," her eyes danced about momentarily with satisfaction and a hair of mischief. I reached for and took her hand in mine.

"You were both of those things, my night and my day," she cocked her head to the side and looked at me. "And that scared me more than anything had since my parents had died. I didn't want you to become dear to me because I didn't want to have to think about an inevitably of losing you in any way."

"So you didn't see this going any place?" I hated myself for asking this question but better to air everything out than tread in indecision.

"Listen to what I'm saying," Bella said slowly, asking me to not only hear her words but listen and read between the lines.

"You have to know how that first year goes. The first night someone's died you say, '12 hours ago she died.' Then you count the days and it turns into three days, then two weeks, and this goes on all through that first year until you reach that first anniversary. It was totally different when Charlie died, my consciousness was so sketchy that the void of his death never made that gouge, at least, not at first, but with my mom it was all so involved. The three of us fought against the cancer like it was a frontline of a battlefield. Every step was discussed, debated, deliberated then put into action, it was utterly exhausting. That sounds so horrible to say, but during that time I operated on such an acute level, there were no days when we could just phone it in. When I went to that party in June and put the moves on you," her eyes twinkled again, "you transported me. I mean, we know you did physically," she raised and lowered her eyes suggestively, "but you took me out of the little hamster wheel of me and my drama." She started to gently shake her head, "It was so liberating. And the fact that you didn't know Rose or Emmett or anyone, you knew nothing of me and I didn't have to be pitiful Bella. I liked the fact that I was a fictional character this summer living a very real life with you. I suppose the fact that you learned about my life and forced it on me last night shook my foundation."

"I didn't handle that well."

"No, you didn't. But, neither did I."

I think about this for a moment.

"Bella?"

"Yes, Edward."

"I think we'll be okay."

We stand up and start walking back to my apartment.

"You think so? What makes you say that?" Bella asks, staying close to my side.

"I just know, we balance the other out." The moment the words are out of my mouth I know it is the truth. It's the strongest truth I've ever felt or stated. It's the sun rises in the east and sets in the west kind of truth.

She hums in thought.

"Bella?"

"Yes, Edward."

"I love you." It's the sun rises in the east and sets in the west kind of truth.

* * *

**A/N **I of course put a link for the Clash's Should I Stay or Should I Go, on my profile page. It's the live version, I like it all speedy and frenetic.

I didn't put a link for Liszt's Liebesträume but of note, Liebesträume translates to Dreams of Love. Edward's deep and mopey like that.

I also have a link for the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network, anyone who has had witness of this disease might find this site helpful, it's chair is Patrick Swayze's widow. Here is the link as well, remove the spaces, http:/ www. Knowitfightitendit . org / other

PinkIndeed as always is a tremendous sounding board although at time she might be bored by me, which is completely understandable, I get bored with myself too. Please check out her story, Beautiful Girl 'Cailin Alainn', it's all sorts of sweet and angsty free (as of last update) which is a nice change from this story.

And for the fork tine tip of people who have read my other story, Still Waters Run Deep, I haven't updated it, not certain what fate it will take, maybe I'll finish this story first, but if you have read it, thank you.


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